I had a really good day…

I love a night that makes me wanna write. And tonight is one of those nights. I’m thinking of how I can expand. New mentors I can connect with. Getting to my laptop to blog is all I’m thinking about while Latto is tearing Climate Pledge walls down. I’m at a concert. Music is blasting. People are enjoying themselves. And somehow, in the middle of all that stimulation, my mind is wandering toward my future.

Why? What happened inside of me that made me start thinking about expansion? Did watching another woman command an arena make me reflect on my own ambitions? Am I feeling especially confident? Did I suddenly realize how much I want out of life?Or was it simply one of those beautiful moments when I’m enjoying myself so thoroughly that my creativity starts flowing? 

When was the last time I felt so inspired by my own life that I couldn't wait to write about it? Don't rush past your own revelations.

Everything about today has been perfect.

For starters, I got to work on time at 8 a.m. Not that that’s been a challenge or anything, but you know sometimes it’s easy to run late. Anywho, I got to work and had a bacon and egg breakfast sandwich with an iced pumpkin cream shaken espresso. A delicious start to my morning, if I do say so myself. Work went well. The court gave us new hoodies, which I thought was a nice little surprise. And to make things even better, I got off early enough to get home and prepare for the concert without feeling rushed. It’s the little things, y’all. I got home and walked Kasper. Then I immediately went into my day’s smoke break. Balcony time in the sun is always nice. There’s something about being outside, feeling the warmth on my skin, and having a moment to myself that I really enjoy. No particular agenda. No pressing obligation. Just me, the sunshine, and a little time to exist.

After my balcony time, I showered and got ready for the concert. I decided to stop by Melrose, my favorite place, for a watermelon lemon drop before heading into the city. If you’ve read my writing before, you know how much I love Melrose. It’s one of those places that feels familiar in the best way. I can go there to write, think, enjoy a cocktail, or simply spend some time with myself. I love having places that feel like little extensions of home. Places where I can show up as I am and settle into the moment. And today, I was enjoying my own company. I think there’s something special about being able to take yourself out and genuinely enjoy the experience. Not because you’re trying to prove how independent you are. Not because you don’t enjoy the company of others. But because your own presence is enough to make an experience worthwhile. There’s a particular kind of freedom in that.

After my lemon drop, I headed to catch the light rail into the city. I realized I’d left my AirPods at home, which was unfortunate, but the train ride was nice nonetheless. And perhaps that’s another thing I appreciated about today. Nothing had to go exactly as planned for me to enjoy myself. I didn’t have my headphones, but I still had a pleasant ride. I didn’t need every moment filled with music, conversation, or some other form of stimulation. Sometimes it’s nice to just sit. To look around. To think. To let your mind wander without needing to direct it anywhere. I caught the monorail straight over to the arena. Check-in was smooth. I got straight through security and made my way to my seats. I purchased club seats, so I entered the Symmetry Club and headed straight to the bar for a “Hot Pink” cocktail. You must know I’ve revisited that album a little bit today. Streets on repeat. Go Doja!

I can feel the floor shaking beneath me from the screams of people cheering Doja on. The energy in this arena is unreal. Thousands of people singing, dancing, screaming, and simply enjoying themselves. There's something about live music that makes me feel so alive. The bass is vibrating through my body, the lights are illuminating the arena, and for a moment, nothing else matters. I'm just here, taking it all in. And can we talk about the fact that I got to hear Acts of Service LIVE?! I still cannot believe it. It was so good. So, so good. There's something special about hearing a song you love performed right in front of you. The music takes on a different life. You hear it differently. You feel it differently. And suddenly, a song you've played countless times becomes a memory you'll carry with you.

DOJA, the woman that you are......

I'm sitting here in complete admiration. Not just of her artistry, but of the confidence it takes to stand in front of thousands of people and command an entire arena. Watching someone exist so fully in their element is inspiring. And maybe that's part of what's stirring something in me tonight. I'm watching a woman take up space, unapologetically, and I'm reminded that there are still so many ways I want to take up space in my own life.

And just like that, I was exactly where I wanted to be. I love live music. I love the anticipation before an artist takes the stage. The lights. The outfits. The people. The energy. The way thousands of strangers can sing the same song and, for a few minutes, feel connected by something as simple as a melody. There’s something beautiful about that. I also love watching people do what they’re good at. Watching someone step into their element and share their craft with the world is inspiring to me. I think about the work it takes to get there. The discipline. The uncertainty. The people who believed in them. The people who didn’t. The countless moments that nobody sees before the lights come on. And naturally, my mind begins to wander toward my own life. What does expansion look like for me? What would it mean to be more intentional about the people I surround myself with? To seek mentorship from people whose experiences challenge my thinking? To have conversations that introduce me to possibilities I haven’t considered? To be willing to enter spaces where I’m not the most knowledgeable person in the room?

This year has asked a lot of me emotionally. I’ve experienced moments that have challenged the way I understand love, loss, change, and acceptance. There have been days when finding the words to describe how I feel has been difficult. Days when I didn’t particularly want to talk, write, explain, or make sense of anything. I’ve spent time learning how to sit with circumstances I cannot change. Learning that acceptance doesn’t always arrive neatly. Learning that you can understand something intellectually and still struggle with it emotionally. And somewhere in the midst of all that, I’ve been trying to find my way back to myself. But I’m beginning to wonder whether finding my way back is even the right way to describe it. Because I’m not exactly the same woman I was before. My experiences have changed me. Some have softened me. Others have challenged me. Some have made me question things I once felt certain about. Maybe I’m not supposed to return to an older version of myself. Maybe I’m supposed to get acquainted with who I am now. And tonight, I like her. I like the woman who gets excited about a good espresso. The woman who has a favorite restaurant and a favorite cocktail. The woman who takes herself to concerts and doesn’t mind enjoying her own company. The woman who can sit in an arena full of people and suddenly feel inspired to write. I like that I’m still curious. I like that I still have dreams. I like that despite everything life has brought my way, I can still have a day that feels so good I want to document it. There’s something reassuring about that. I don’t want every reflection I write to come from a place of pain. I don’t want to only reach for my laptop when something hurts, when I’m trying to process a difficult experience, or when I’m searching for answers. I want to write about the good days, too. The days when nothing needs fixing. The days when I feel beautiful, excited, capable, and present. The days when I don’t have some profound revelation to share but simply want to acknowledge how much I enjoyed being alive. I think joy deserves to be documented just as much as grief. And I don’t want to make the mistake of believing that every experience has to teach me something before it becomes worthy of remembering. Sometimes a day can simply be good. Sometimes a concert is just a concert. A cocktail is just a cocktail. A train ride is just a train ride. And that’s enough. Still, here I am, finding meaning in it all. Typical me. Latto is still doing her thing, the music is loud, and I’m sitting here thinking about all the possibilities ahead of me. There’s a whole world of people I haven’t met. Conversations I haven’t had. Opportunities I haven’t pursued. Places I haven’t traveled. Stories I haven’t written. And for once, I’m not thinking about those things from a place of urgency or dissatisfaction. I’m thinking about them from a place of excitement. I don’t need to have everything figured out tonight. I don’t need a five-year plan for every idea that crosses my mind. I don’t need to turn this moment of inspiration into another list of things I must accomplish. I can simply be inspired. I can let the ideas come. I can trust that there’s room for me to grow without needing to rush the process. And I can enjoy the life I’m living while I figure out what I want the next chapter to look like. That’s a beautiful feeling.

I started this post because I had a good day and couldn’t wait to write about it. And maybe that’s all this needed to be. A little documentation of a Thursday that made me happy. A reminder that inspiration can find me anywhere, even in the middle of a concert with a Hot Pink cocktail in hand. I don’t know exactly what expansion will look like for me in the months ahead. But I know I want to remain open to it. Open to new people. New ideas. New experiences. New versions of myself. And in the meantime, I want to keep making room for days like this. Days that remind me that there’s so much beauty in the ordinary. Days that make me excited about tomorrow without wishing away today. Days that make me wanna write.

And tonight is one of those nights.

For that, I’m grateful.