There’s a raw vulnerability in losing hair—a piece of ourselves we never thought we’d have to say goodbye to. For me, the process wasn’t just about the strands that fell away; it was about watching parts of my identity, my sense of self, slip away with each strand. Grief settled in—deep and complicated—as I faced the mirror each day, confronting the reality of my body changing in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

There’s a deep, quiet grief that settles in with the news of a lifelong diagnosis—a reality that sinks in slowly, altering the future I once imagined. It’s not just about managing symptoms; it’s about mourning the health I once knew.

I couldn’t help but wonder, when did 18 become this monumental milestone? The age when we’re told they’re “adults,” yet as parents, we know all too well that 18 is just the beginning. It’s the day they officially step out into the world, and for us, it’s the moment we must truly let go. But can we ever really prepare ourselves for that? My oldest turned 18 on October 13, 2024, a Sunday I’ll never forget.

You ever find yourself tossing and turning, pressing your face into the pillow, or clutching it tight, covering your head, begging—pleading—for just a few hours of sleep? Have you ever felt the weight of sleepless nights building, tears pressing at your eyes because the exhaustion has become unbearable?

The execution of Marcellus "Khalifah" Williams on September 24, 2024, is a stark and painful indictment of our criminal justice system—a system steeped in racial bias, systemic failures, and a disregard for truth.

Haitian culture, like any other, is complex, layered, and deeply rooted in centuries of history, struggle, and triumph. To truly understand the Haitian community, we need to move beyond the headlines and see the beauty and strength embedded within this remarkable culture. The stories that dominate the news are only fragments of a much larger, more nuanced narrative. It’s time we remain curious, not judgmental, about the beliefs and traditions of people who have been through so much and who still stand tall in the face of adversity.

Javion Magee was a 21-year-old Black truck driver from Chicago, Illinois, found hanging from a tree in Henderson, North Carolina, on September 11, 2024. His death has left his family, friends, and community members devastated, demanding answers.

Whether it's two working parents, single caregivers, or split custody families, housing instability keeps surfacing as a key issue. And while I’ve left the housing sector to pursue my passion in mental health and recovery work, it continues to show up in the lives of those I support, revealing an undeniable link between housing insecurity, mental health challenges, and substance use.

The world often asks us to be strong without asking what it costs. It glorifies our ability to survive while too often overlooking the cracks in our armor—the emotional scars, the mental exhaustion, the wounds that need healing but are ignored. Our resilience is admired, but rarely are we given space to be vulnerable. Rarely are we offered the rest we so deeply deserve.

After all, this was what I had been preparing her for—her next chapter, her leap into the world. It was something to celebrate, a culmination of hard work and resilience. But I didn’t expect how deeply unprepared I was for what came next: the quiet, yet heavy, realization that I would have to let her go.