Finding My Groove (Even on Hard Days)

I recently took on a small part-time position.

Not because I was lost — but because I wanted to get out of the house more, invest back into my business financially, and reconnect with people in a grounded, real way. I intentionally chose a small mom-and-pop place rather than a corporate environment. I wanted something quieter. Something established. Somewhere I could feel present, not overstimulated.

And honestly… I think I’ve found my groove.

But the beginning wasn’t graceful.

My first day started emotionally heavier than I expected.

Right now, I’m staying with family while my home is being prepared for move-in. And although I’m grateful for shelter, the environment has been difficult on both my body and my spirit. The space isn’t clean, there are mold spores in the home, cigarette smoke lingering in the air, and everyone seems to stay sick. I’ve tried gently helping. I’ve tried saying something. But when I do, it’s received as judgment — when in truth, it comes from care.

I care about health. I care about wellness. I always have.

That morning I woke up hot, exhausted, and emotionally drained. My throat was sore from the air quality. I hadn’t slept well. All I wanted was to stay in bed and protect my peace.

But I didn’t.

I went to work anyway.

Not because it was easy — but because I needed to. I needed somewhere I could feel needed. Somewhere I could be welcomed for who I am and what I bring to the table.

Walking in that day, I knew I wasn’t showing up as my most composed self. I felt flustered. Emotional. Overstimulated. I worried that I made the wrong first impression.

Still, I showed up.

I worked my shift. I learned everything I could in that small window of time. I stayed present even when my heart felt heavy.

After work, I sat in my car for almost an hour. I took a nap right there in the parking lot — just to reset. Just to breathe. Mostly because I wasn’t ready to return to that environment yet.

That quiet moment reminded me how important it is to create space for yourself when life feels overwhelming.

I hate that this is even something I have to navigate.

I wish the people I love wanted better for themselves.

But I also recognize this season for what it is: a reminder of how far I’ve come.

I am no longer who I used to be.

I don’t complain.
I don’t gossip.
I don’t stay stuck in spaces that limit my growth.

I’ve learned to move forward — even when it’s uncomfortable.

I just hope I can be understood in this new space. I don’t want to be seen as someone incapable of holding a “normal” job. I want community. I want a tribe. I want connection that feels mutual and supportive.

So here I am.

Making my way.
Learning people.
Understanding myself more deeply.
Allowing emotions to pass instead of letting them define me.

I won’t let temporary discomfort interfere with what God has planned for my life.

I will take responsibility where I need to.
I will apologize where I fall short.
I will continue becoming.

Even on hard days.

Especially on hard days.