Sometimes I jump emotions.
I don’t mean mood swings — I mean I feel the scale of it all, back to back, wave after wave. One second I’m hopeful, then I’m tight with pressure. And it’s wild because the shift isn’t the problem. It’s the missing. The moment I don’t notice what I’m feeling. That’s where I lose the ground beneath me.
Noticing your emotions — that’s the missing piece. That’s the bridge.
We’re told you can shift from sadness to joy, but no one tells you how fast it can happen if you’re present enough to recognize the emotion as it’s forming.
I’ve been in this pressure ball lately.
It feels like being born again — the squeezing, the heart racing, the urgency of life happening to you, through you, for you — and you want to be ready. You have to be ready. The pressure says, "What’s coming? What are you calling in? What are you allowing?"
I want all the good things. I want everything I’ve worked for to flow to me.
But I also know that the way I feel determines how those things show up — or don’t.
And I’ve been focusing so hard on staying in alignment, staying faithful, even when it hurts.
Yesterday, my daughter almost missed her dance clinic.
She lives for this. It would’ve broken her heart. And for a split second, that nearly crushed me.
Not because I want to give her everything — but because I know what it feels like as a little Black girl to love something deeply and not have access to it.
People say “That’s resilience. That’s teaching her the real world.”
But I don’t want my daughter’s resilience to be born out of lack.
I want her to grow into her power from a place of fullness.
So I reached out to the universe — to God — raw, open, desperate for a miracle.
I made a GoFundMe. I didn’t want to ask for money, didn’t even share it wide because I didn’t want people thinking I was just trying to sell my book. But the truth is — yes, I do want you to buy my book. I am proud of it. Because I know who I am and where I’m going. And I know the intention behind every word I’ve written.
I’ve zigzagged my way through so many fireballs in this life — dodging shame, insecurity, burnout, fear — just to arrive at a point where I can say:
I don’t need saving. I need alignment.
I need God. I need Source. I need me.
And I’m practicing that presence.
Even when it feels like I’m unraveling. Even when I’m on my cycle and emotions get louder than logic. Even when the only place I find clarity is in silence.
I’m studying myself.
I’m my own case study.
And somehow, my daughter did get back into Dance.
I don’t know how. It wasn’t anything I orchestrated.
It was God. It was the universe.
It did it.
He made a way.
She gets all the glory.
I am humbled.
I am held.
And I am reminded that faith, even when tested, is never wasted.
So for everyone who wanted to help, who thought about us, who loves my daughter and my children — I see you. I thank you. Your energy carried us. And I hope this blog helps carry you, too.
Because every time I slow down and notice,
I find me again.
And I hope you’ll find you, too.
Through this experience, a worksheet was created. I use this to assist in noticing. Implement this into a daily routine, and in moments of spiraling, when the world is going too fast, and you need to slow yours down. Download the Noticing Practice Worksheet
Be Great,
Stephanie
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