June is not arriving softly for me at all. It is meeting me in the middle of where responsibility, exhaustion, healing, and hard truth lies. I am stepping into this month as a mother. One who rarely gets a physical break. As a black woman carrying the full weight of providing. Oh, yeah and as someone learning how to keep going without pretending any of that is a walk in the park.

Therefore, as I step into June, I am being honest about what this season is asking of me. What I need to carry with intention. Also, what I need to finally leave behind.

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Let me tell you, ‘Sha! There comes a moment that rolls in harder than a Louisiana summer thunderstorm. Also, it does not tiptoe in. What does it do? It storms through the front door. You look at your world. Your babies. Your fustrations. 

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Honey, let me tell you, April wasn’t here to play with me, not a damn bit. It hit me with the kind of pressure and force that will make you move differently whether you are ready or not. Look, I did not pop up on my blog much last month.

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