The Sweetness I Never Knew I Needed: Lessons from a Jar of Homemade Jam

There’s something about soft Sunday mornings and a good show that just feels like therapy.

When With Love, Meghan came out, I didn’t rush to watch it right away. I needed a moment. Or maybe a few. I wanted to be fully present when I watched it—when I sat down to take in a Black woman who had been villainized globally for simply existing in her full self.

And when I finally pressed play?
Whew. I felt it in my bones.

Watching Meghan Markle—poised, brilliant, tender, and slow—talk about the small, beautiful things she loves like gardening, flowers, bees, and homemade jam felt like a love letter to the parts of me I had buried under years of busyness.

Because the truth is: Black women aren’t taught to move like that.
We’re taught to work, to prove, to serve, to sacrifice.
We’re taught to earn sweetness—not choose it.

But there she was, choosing it unapologetically—and it gave me permission to do the same.

So, I made jam.

Not because I needed it.
Not because I planned to monetize it.
Not because it made sense.

I made jam because it sounded sweet.
Because it looked like peace.
Because something in my spirit whispered:
“What if joy could be made in your own kitchen?”

And baby, it could.

I didn’t even realize how much I needed that moment until I stood over the stove, stirring strawberries, sugar, lemon, and time into something that felt like a hug in a jar.

It Wasn’t Just Jam. It Was Me.

This wasn’t about being domestic.
It wasn’t about the Pinterest aesthetic.
It wasn’t about trying to be someone I’m not.

It was about honoring the part of me that craved sweetness.

That wanted to slow down.
That wanted to create something just because it made me smile.
That wanted to say: I deserve this. Even if it’s small. Especially if it’s small.

It was about reclaiming the simple luxuries Black women are often denied—not because they’re unavailable, but because we’ve been conditioned to believe we don’t need them.

But we do.

We deserve joy that isn’t functional.
We deserve pleasure that isn’t earned.
We deserve softness that doesn’t come with strings.

You Don’t Have to Have Her Life to Taste Her Freedom

Let me say this with love:

You don’t need a palace.
You don’t need a flower farm.
You don’t need a televised platform.

You just need to give yourself permission.

You might not have bees in your backyard—but maybe there’s local honey at your farmer’s market.
You might not have fresh-picked flowers every week—but maybe there’s a woman selling bouquets down the street.
You might not be a Duchess—but you are the queen of your own joy.

And that counts. It all counts.

Because this isn’t about copying Meghan—it’s about being inspired to claim your own version of sweetness.

Making Jam Taught Me to Stop Waiting for Sweetness to Show Up

I used to think joy had to come after the breakthrough.
After the success.
After the struggle.

But now I see that sweetness can be created—in moments, in rituals, in your very own kitchen.

And that’s what the jam did.

It showed me that I don’t have to wait for joy to arrive. I can make it.

One jar. One memory. One sweet, slow moment at a time.

What Sweetness Could You Create This Spring?

So, sis, I want to ask you—
What’s one small, sweet thing you’ve been thinking about trying?
Something that brings you joy, even if nobody claps for it.
Something that feels like love, even if you’re the only one who sees it.

What would it look like to do it now—not when the house is clean, not when the to-do list is finished, not when the world says you’ve earned it—but now?

Maybe it’s jam.
Maybe it’s journaling.
Maybe it’s walking barefoot through your yard or sipping tea while the sun comes up.

Whatever it is—don’t wait.
Spring is here. So are you.
Choose your version of sweetness.

Final Word

There’s a version of you that’s just waiting to be invited into the room.
The you who smiles for no reason.
The you who stirs joy into everything she touches.
The you who is allowed to be sweet, soft, and satisfied.

And if no one’s told you yet—you are allowed to be happy, right now.
You are allowed to create a life that tastes like peace.
You are allowed to find yourself in the small things.

Even if it starts with strawberries.
Especially if it starts with strawberries.

Let’s Keep the Conversation Going

Have you ever made something for no reason other than joy?
What does sweetness look like in your life right now?

Come share your story inside Wealthy Women Conversations on Facebook.
We’re celebrating every jar, every bloom, every slow moment that reminds us:
We are allowed to be happy.

Slower, Wealthier, Happier