Let me lay it out, just as handwashed clothes with Ivory soap were placed on a clothesline to dry on a warm summer’s day. For years, I carried this quiet pressured weight wondering if tying the knot at 20 meant I was falling behind. Never spoke about it out loud. I let the thought settle deep. Often it showed up every time I caught myself measuring my life against somebody else’s highlight reel.
'Cause, my baby on paper it looked like I took one sad ass detour. Young bride. Grown-up bills. Greener than a tropical rain forest somewhere in south America. The lessons I learned were heavier than a sack of wet grits at an age most folks are still out here finding themselves.
But let me set the record straight: I did not get left behind. I got a head start. Insert a wink right here. 😉
At 20, I was still blooming, still learning what “no” felt like on my lips. I was still figuring out who I was outside of just surviving. Marriage did not wreck me. It stripped me bare emotionally. It cranked the heat up on my growth. It pushed me to be wise before I was unaware of my glow. Marriage asked me for grown woman strength even when I was still just a girl trying to find her rhythm.
I learned to survive before I learned how to give up. I learned to hustle through chaos before I learned how to truly rest. Oh, and that isn’t a mistake, honey. That’s the lessons arriving early like that hot coffee brewing before the sun comes up.
See, everything a lot of folks are now figuring out in their 30s and 40s about how to love themselves, how to set boundaries, how to choose peace over drama, shit, I was wrestling with all that in real time. There were no easy outs for me. I had no safety net. It was only me. I had two babies watching, and my heart pounding through every relentless moment.
You know what? I am still standing. Still patching up my dreams. Still pouring into myself with more intention. I have more southern spice than ever before.
I didn’t waste time, honey. I found my simplicity. I know what drains me. I know what real love requires. I know peace is something I would not ever negotiate away. Plus, best believe, I will never shrink myself again just to showcase for an aesthetic.
Some folks wander before they wake up. Then, there are people like me that get shaken awake ‘cause wandering costs too damn much. I was never late. I got my lessons early. I let them sharpen me up. Grew roots before I even dreamed of wings.
Now? Well, I walk with boldness. Now I choose softness on purpose. I have learned how to own my truth. Now I have built a life that is solid. A life that is mine, that fits me like my favorite pair of painted on jeans. Yes, I am talking about the painted-on jeans that Remy Ma was rapping about in her hit song Conceited.
Okay, so do not let anybody tell you it is a late start, friend. This right here, this is a strong beginning. If you are reading this feeling a little lost or a little behind, listen to me. You aren’t. You are growing your roots. Roots… so your wings can take you higher. That is a southern truth, sassed up and served fresh.
Keep on, keepin’ on! Your story’s getting even better.
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