Happy Friday my dear friends,
How are you doing this evening? We are officially launched into another weekend and boy, it’s gonna be a busy, yet relaxing and rewarding one for me. What about you? What are your plans? Shoot me a text or drop me a comment — I always love hearing from you.
Today unfolded like any other day — until it didn’t.
A little update first about my gym encounter the other day. I didn’t go yesterday because SCE was coming to the house, and honestly, I was a little tense about going back. But this morning, I went.
The instructor arrived around the same time, so I approached her and quietly told her about Carlos and the things he’d been saying to me. She was sympathetic and acknowledged that nobody should ever be made to feel uncomfortable — especially at the gym during a workout.
Then, out of the blue, she said, “I’m really surprised Carlos would even ask you if you were a MAGA. You have a lot of pink highlights in your hair and that certainly isn’t a MAGA.”
My mouth almost sunk to the bottom of the pool. WHAT THE HECK.
I thanked her for her time, found my space in the water, and focused on enjoying my workout.
I felt there was no need to even address her comment any further. I stand behind my decision to not discuss politics of any sorts with anyone, and I chose to stick to my decision.
As the day progressed, I felt a quiet thread running through everything — a subtle pull I couldn’t name at first. Small moments kept rising up, nudging me, asking me to pay attention. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just steadily, like a whisper that refuses to be ignored.
When I have days like this, I know the best place for me to be is in my writing space — writing and reading.
Throughout the day, I found myself in situations that made me reflect on how far I’ve come. Moments where I had to use my voice. Moments where I had to hold my boundaries. Moments where I realized I no longer shrink to make others comfortable. I no longer silence myself to keep the peace. I no longer pretend something doesn’t bother me just to avoid conflict.
And even in the awkwardness of certain conversations, I could feel it — the difference between who I used to be and who I am now.
Then came the signs. The kind that show up when you’re aligned, not searching. The kind that make you pause because they feel like confirmation rather than coincidence. The kind that arrive exactly when you need them, even if you didn’t know you needed anything at all.
Somewhere in the middle of all of it, something shifted inside me.
A sentence rose in my chest with a calm, steady certainty:
I’m not afraid anymore.
And with that realization came another — one that felt like it had been waiting years for me to finally hear it.
It’s time.
Time to fully step into the purpose I’ve been circling.
Time to pick up the work I once set down. My memoir.
Time to finish the story I began writing years ago.
Time to use my voice in ways I wasn’t strong enough to before.
It wasn’t urgency in the frantic sense.
It was urgency in the aligned sense — the kind that says, “You’ve healed enough. Now go help someone else heal too.”
Tonight, I’m honoring that shift.
I’m honoring the signs.
I’m honoring the clarity.
I’m honoring the woman I’ve become — the one who can finally say the words she once whispered only to herself.
Sometimes purpose doesn’t arrive with fireworks.
Sometimes it arrives on an ordinary day that becomes extraordinary because you finally recognize yourself in it.
And tonight, I do.
And honestly, as I’m sitting here tonight, it just feels like one of those moments where you look around and think, “Wow… I’m really doing this.” Not in a big dramatic way — just in that quiet, heart‑full way where everything finally makes sense. It’s like life handed me a little blanket, tucked me in, and whispered, “You’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.” And I’m choosing to believe that. I’m choosing to trust the timing, trust the signs, and trust this version of me who’s finally ready to step forward. So if you’re feeling any kind of shift in your own world, consider this your gentle nudge from a friend who gets it — you’re allowed to follow it too, one soft, brave step at a time.
Love Life++
Hugs, Dawna — may the butterflies remind you that we are all still becoming
Love Life with Dawna 