Slower, Wealthier, Happier

Good evening, beautiful,

Tonight feels different.

It is Friday, one of my favorite days to write to you, and also one of the most emotional Fridays I have had in a very long time. It is currently evening, and for the first time I am writing one of these love letters after the day has already unfolded instead of before it begins. Maybe that is fitting, because today was a day about unfolding. A day about release. A day about receiving. A day about realizing that sometimes the very thing you have prayed for can arrive so quietly that your mind does not catch up to it until later.

This morning I woke up feeling awful. My stomach was unsettled. My nerves were loud. I could barely eat. I had medication to take in preparation for the appointment, and if I am honest, I was carrying fear from past experiences. I did not want today to feel like the other times. I did not want tears and pain and trying to explain what hurt while hoping someone would truly hear me. I did not want another day where I had to brace myself to be understood.

What I wanted was something different.

I wanted gentleness. I wanted care. I wanted relief. I wanted to walk into that room and be met with understanding. I wanted the process to go well. I wanted my body to feel safe. I wanted to leave lighter than I came in.

And beautiful, that is exactly what happened.

Today I went to have the wound vac removed and to have my surgical sites redressed. One area is where the mass was removed. Another is where skin was taken for a graft so healing can happen faster and stronger. This has been a long road, and the last month has included tubes, cords, machinery attached to my body, discomfort, restrictions, and the mental weight of carrying something medical with me every hour of every day.

Today that chapter ended.

There was some discomfort, yes, but nothing like what I had feared. Nothing like what I had prepared myself to endure. Instead, I was cared for. I was seen. I was handled with compassion. I was supported through the process. And when it was over, my surgeon hugged me and said, we are finished, we are done, and you did good.

I cannot fully explain what that moment did to me.

As my husband rolled me toward the car in the wheelchair, tears began to fall. Not from pain. Not from fear. From gratitude. From relief. From the realization that I had just received the very thing I asked for. I had hoped for a different experience, and I got one. I had desired gentleness, and I received it. I had wanted closure on something I have carried for over a decade, and I was sitting in the middle of that closure.

On my phone screensaver is my vision board. In the center of it is a photo of me, and beneath that photo are the words, my body is healthy, beautiful, and well taken care of.

Today, I looked down and realized I was living inside the sentence.

My husband caring for me. My surgeon celebrating me. My body making progress. My healing moving forward. The old chapter closing. The new chapter beginning.

Sometimes manifestation is not flashy. Sometimes it looks like a hospital hallway, tears in a wheelchair, and quiet proof that your life is responding to what you asked for.

Now let me tell you the other lesson.

I came home heavily medicated, sleepy, and so happy to be back in my own space. I ate, I rested, and when I woke up later, I felt the absence of all the cords and tubes. I felt lighter. I felt freer. I felt like I should jump up and get moving because the heavy part was over.

So I tried.

And I immediately hit the floor.

My body, in all of its wisdom, immediately reminded me that while one part is complete, healing is still in progress. Just because the visible weight was removed does not mean the internal work is done. Just because the cords are gone does not mean I am ready to run.

And honestly, there is wisdom in that for all of us.

How many times do we survive the hard part and then rush the healing part? How often do we remove the burden and immediately expect ourselves to perform? How often do we confuse progress with completion?

Tonight I am learning that relief and recovery are not the same thing.

I am lighter, yes. I am grateful, yes. I am through a major phase, yes. But I am still healing. I still need rest. I still need patience. I still need tenderness with myself. There is no prize for rushing the next chapter before the current one has finished loving on me.

And as a Black woman, I want to say this clearly. You are allowed to enjoy the full healing process. Even the slow parts. Even the inconvenient parts. Even the parts where people have to help you. Even the parts where you cannot show up as your usual productive self. You are allowed to be cared for. You are allowed to take your time. You are allowed to heal completely instead of quickly.

I am also deeply grateful tonight for the people who have loved me through this season. My good girlfriend has a birthday celebration scheduled for tomorrow, and because I am not ready to be outside yet, she chose to reschedule it. That kind of love humbles me. That kind of love reminds me that healing is not only physical. Healing also looks like being surrounded by people who honor where you are.

So tonight I sit in gratitude.

Gratitude for progress. Gratitude for answered prayers. Gratitude for doctors who got me here. Gratitude for my husband, who has loved me through every step. Gratitude for friends who make space for me. Gratitude for a body that is still fighting to become whole.

And gratitude for the reminder that just because I got what I wanted does not mean I need to rush what comes next.

Maybe you needed that reminder, too.

You can celebrate and still rest. You can receive and still recover. You can be free of one burden and still need time to regain your strength. You can be grateful and still go slow.

You do not have to sprint just because the shackles came off.

You are still healing.
You are still worthy of patience.
You are still allowed to move gently.
You are still becoming something beautiful.

And tonight, especially tonight, you are still magical.

Love and kisses,
Your Most Magical Self ✨💋