April is Autism Awareness Month, and this week my daughter was diagnosed on the spectrum. There’s a strange duality in that moment, almost like relief and exhaustion sitting side by side. Relief because I finally have answers, direction, access to the support she deserves, and I finally felt heard. But if I’m being honest, I’m tired. Not just “I need a nap” tired… deep in my soul, body-aching, mentally stretched thin kind of tired. The kind that makes you crave a real break, not just a moment.

And yet, life keeps life-ing right…

I sent out invitations for a simple, chilled birthday dinner over 30 days ago, nothing extravagant, just a moment to breathe, to feel seen, to celebrate making it this far. But somehow, it feels like people are treating it like a placeholder. The Aries in me wants to cancel the whole thing. Quietly pull back. Act like it never mattered.

But no. Not this time.

I deserve to be celebrated bitch even if I’m the only one there. Especially if I’m the only one there LOL!

Because in all seriousness, I’ve been very intentional about showing up… for everybody who matters.

I was invited to Canva Create which is tomorrow in Inglewood, CA. It was a fucking honor, something I would’ve loved to experience (I miss LA so bad) but when 99.7% of the bills and responsibilities fall on you, “want to” and “can do” don’t always align. My daughter is no longer in preschool, so now I’m balancing 2 full-time jobs and a part-time while caring for her 24/7. And when I reached out to her village for help? Silence.

That silence be so confirming don’t it?

It reminded me why I don’t ask for shit. Why I’ve learned to move without expecting support. This time, it just hit differently.

My silence is about to be louder.

Not in chaos. Not in anger. But in distance. In boundaries. In a quiet, intentional shift of energy.

Because my focus is clear now: me and my daughter.

Making sure she has every resource, every opportunity, every ounce of support she needs to thrive. Making sure I’m building a life that doesn’t just sustain us but it frees us. I’m aligning my fucking ducks, planting seeds, and trusting that what I’m building right now will bloom in ways I can’t even fully see yet.

Thirty-seven isn’t just another year.

It’s a recalibration.

A smaller circle.
A sharper vision.
A deeper gratitude.

And a woman who finally understands that choosing herself isn’t selfish… it’s necessary.

Xoxo, Drea💋