🎉 You’re Invited to My Letting Go Party 🎉

In My Thirties and I Ain't Got Time! Take a look at what I'm leaving at the door and see if you want to drop some stuff off too.

There’s something special about stepping into a new decade.

It’s like standing at the edge of something wild and beautiful—looking back at all the storms I’ve weathered, the heartbreaks, the hidden victories, and realizing… I’m still here. By grace.

This year, I turn 31.

My road to thirty started in the middle of a big leap. Moving across the country, clinging to faith, and learning to trust God with the unknown. And now, thirty-one feels like a launching pad. A deeper yes. A holy invitation forward.

I’m not just ready for what’s ahead. I’m ready to let go of what can’t come with me.

So here is a list, a release, a quiet declaration:

I’m jumping. Again. With open hands.

🚪Leaving This at the Door: The Timeline That Wasn’t Mine

It feels like every American woman has this timeline embedded into their DNA.

💍Married by 25

🏡 A house by 28

👶🏽 Kids by 30

🎯Career perfectly packaged with a bow by now.

I’ve spent so many years measuring my life against a checklist I didn’t create.

No more.

I’m choosing purpose over pressure. Becoming over performing. I’m learning that divine timing doesn’t bow to societal timelines and neither should I.

💥No Room for This: Shrinking to Be Digestible

I’ve dimmed my light , softened my edges, and made myself smaller so others wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. But no more apologizing for my bigness.

• My dreams are BIG

• My voice is LOUD

• My calling is GRAND

and I say yes to it all!

From now on, I will not contort myself to fit into rooms I was born to expand and neither should you.

🛑We Don’t Do That Here: Performative Healing

This is a big one for me! You know that thing where you act like you’re okay, just because you’ve “done the work”?

I’m releasing that too.

Healing isn’t a box to check. Still going through isn’t proof that God hasn’t been good. Healing is a process—sometimes quiet, sometimes loud, and nonlinear. It’s messy. It’s layered. It rarely follows a straight line. And I’m learning to give myself permission to still be healing without shame.

Sometimes we rush to get to the “other side” of our story, just so we can offer it up as a testimony. But God’s goodness isn’t only seen after the storm. It’s revealed in the process. In the mud being wiped from our eyes, in the clarity that comes in stages.

Even Jesus paused with the blind man and asked, “Can you see?”

And the man replied, “I see people… they look like trees walking.”

So Jesus touched him again.

That’s the kind of grace I’m learning to receive. Grace that makes room for needing Him again. And again. And again.

I’m not who I was. But I’m still not fully who I feel destined to be.

And I thank Big Sandals for that.

💌 New Policy: No Over-explaining My “No”

No is a complete sentence.

I’m done offering disclaimers, essays, or guilt-soaked explanations when I honor my limits. Boundaries are not a betrayal; they are a love letter to my well-being.

🙅🏽‍♀️Not My Job: Fighting to Be Understood

Some people won’t get you.

And that’s okay.

I’m learning that peace often looks like letting go of the need to be validated by those committed to misunderstanding you.

🛑Grind Culture? Blocked. Rest is not laziness.

Burnout is not a badge of honor.

My worth is not tied to how productive I am.

We live in a world that applauds the grind, even if it costs us our health, our peace, and our joy. Maybe you’ve been there too: juggling Instacart runs, Uber rides, side hustles, freelance gigs, and odd jobs just to make ends meet. Falling asleep on buses, in break rooms, or between tasks because your body is running on empty. And still, somehow, feeling like you’re not doing enough.

But let this be a gentle reminder: You don’t have to earn your value by exhausting yourself.

You don’t have to prove your purpose by burning out.

What’s meant for you won’t require your self-abandonment.

God’s promises don’t demand your depletion, they invite your trust.

This season is about realignment.

You are allowed to rest—and still be deeply worthy.

🎯I’m Allowed to Dream Bigger: No More Guilt for Wanting More

I can be grateful and still want more.

I can love my life and still long for the next chapter.

Desire doesn’t cancel contentment, it reveals where God might be calling you deeper.

I’ve always been a dreamer and a doer. A hustler at heart. I work hard, extremely hard! I chase my goals with everything I have, and when I reach one, I’m already casting vision for the next. And sometimes? I feel guilty about that. Like maybe I should just be satisfied. Like ambition and faith can’t coexist.

But I’m learning that God doesn’t shame our longing. He speaks through it.

He’s the one who planted vision in our hearts to begin with.

If you’ve ever felt guilty for dreaming bigger after reaching a goal, or like your hunger for more somehow makes you ungrateful—breathe.

You’re not broken. You’re being expanded.

This year, I’m giving myself permission to hold both:

Gratitude and growth.

Peace and pursuit.

Stillness and vision.

You don’t have to shrink your dreams to prove you’re thankful.

You get to honor God by walking boldly into every door He opens, even the ones you didn’t expect to knock on so soon.

💃🏽Letting Go Of The Fear of Being “Too Much”

Too emotional.

Too ambitious.

Too spiritual.

Too passionate.

Too loud.

Too soft.

Too sensitive.

I used to think all my “too much” was a problem to fix.

That if people got too close, if they experienced all of me, they’d walk away.

That my fullness would overwhelm, confuse, or disappoint.

So I tried to tone it down.

Dim the light.

Soften the edges.

Make myself easier to carry.

But the truth is—I love me. I love the way God made me: bold and soft, driven and tender, deep-feeling and big-dreaming. I love the fire, the sensitivity, the way I see the world and want to heal it. And I no longer feel the need to apologize for being someone who feels, hopes, and believes deeply.

God designed me in His image—not as a mistake but as a masterpiece. I’m not “too much.” I’m wonderfully custom-made. And so are you.

So now? I’m reclaiming every “too” as a testimony.

Too emotional? That’s compassion.

Too ambitious? That’s vision.

Too spiritual? That’s discernment.

Too sensitive? That’s depth.

Too much? That’s divine fullness.

We weren’t created to be small—we were created to carry glory.

If you’ve ever felt like your bigness made others uncomfortable, or that shrinking made you more likable, this is your reminder:

You don’t have to fit to be worthy.

You don’t have to edit yourself to be loved.

Be all of you.

Every God-breathed part.

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So here’s to this new chapter and next level of becoming.

Here’s to soft goodbyes and solid boundaries.

Here’s to unlearning what was never ours to carry.

Here’s to walking boldly into the woman I was always meant to be.

And if you’re reading this—no matter your age—you can do the same.

What are you letting go of?