Joy That Sh*t Is Free

A woman with a radiant smile featuring gold teeth stands against the backdrop of the Memphis skyline, basking in the warm glow of the setting sun.

Getting a gel pedicure and thinking, damn, my feet look—whoa, hell naw. 😂 But that space is a happy place. I remember a few years ago asking myself, where the fuck and how the fuck—because since I was 18, I’ve been chasing the bag. Two jobs, full-time student, doing all the things. And now, twenty years later, I look up and I’m exhausted. Burnt out. And can I be honest? Just a little bitter.

Have you ever felt like—well damn, here I am. I’ve put in all this work, showed up for everybody, and I’m not even sure if it’s paid off. That bubbly girl who used to be everybody’s friend? She’s quieter now. And in her place is this woman who carries a few internal scars but also a deeper knowing. I’m no longer chasing—I'm searching. Searching for something that allows me to hug my inner child real tight.

And today, sitting there in that nail salon, I realized something—joy isn’t always found in laughter or celebration. Sometimes it shows up in the quiet moments when you finally stand up for yourself. I realized joy is also boundary work. It’s peace work. It’s the soft relief that comes after saying, “No more,” and meaning it.

I thought joy was just about smiling through it. But it’s also walking away from what drains you, releasing what confuses you, and choosing what honors you.

I didn’t lose anything today. I gained clarity. And that—that’s joy too.

There is more. So much more. Today alone is a blog within itself. But I am happy. Truly — from the soul of me.

Someone once said to me, “You like yourself, but you don’t love yourself.” And that has stuck with me ever since.

Then tonight, I got off the phone with a friend who said, “Boundaries show that you love yourself.” And that—that is shelter for joy.

The more I get into this writing thing, the more I fall in love with it. Truly in love with it. It allows me to escape to a place where joy resides. It’s freeing there—no restrictions, no expectations—just me, my words, and pure imagination.

Because maybe that’s what joy really is: not something you chase, but something you come home to.

And the wildest part? It’s been a full year of me writing. A whole year. I’m officially a published author — and I love that for me.

Now let’s be honest: this writing thing isn’t bringing in a dime. Not yet. But the joy? The joy is priceless. Like one of those old Mastercard commercials — priceless.

I feel on top of the world. So unstoppable. And I can’t even explain why. Maybe that’s just what peace feels like when it finally fits.