Step Into Your Light: Show Up for Yourself and Shine Like the Star You Are
I am proud of myself for listening to the call — obeying what I knew, deep down, my spirit was whispering for me to do.
The morning air felt heavy. My bed held me like a cocoon, warm and familiar, but something deeper urged me to move. The thought of getting dressed and driving to church in LA felt like climbing a mountain, but my soul knew better. I paused, inhaled, and asked myself — How will I feel if I let this moment slip away? How will I feel if I rise and honor what I promised myself? The answer was clear. I had written these events on my calendar with intention, and I wanted to water the seeds I had planted. So, I got up. I showed up.
At church, the Pastor spoke on prayer — how it isn’t confined to four walls or sacred times but belongs to us in the quiet moments of our distress, our joy, our uncertainty. He urged us to set aside sacred time — an hour, two, a whole day — to just be with God. His words landed gently in my spirit. I thought of my mornings, where I sit in stillness, allowing my thoughts to float by like clouds, listening for the voice of God in the spaces between my breaths. That, too, was prayer. That, too, was devotion.
After service, I stopped by the restroom before heading out. A woman walked in, her presence heavy with something unspoken. She turned to me, eyes alight, and began speaking — about prayer, about demons, about her journey as a tarot reader. I barely spoke, but I listened. In that moment, I realized something profound: my presence, my stillness, my own communion with God had made space for her to open up. I had done nothing special, yet I was a living, breathing safe space, simply because I had become that for myself. My spirit had expanded, and in turn, I was being used as a vessel for love, for listening, for witnessing another soul’s truth.
Though I was running a little late, I made it just in time to volunteer at the Pan African Film Festival. As I stepped into the theater, Tichina Arnold’s unmistakable voice filled the room. Instantly, I was at the front, eyes scanning a sea of eager filmmakers and dreamers soaking in her wisdom.
I hadn’t expected to be in a room with such brilliance and legacy so soon. But I was calm. Present. Absorbing it all. I didn’t come to this festival for nothing. Tichina spoke of humility, of grace, of treating every person with kindness. She emphasized discipline — always audition, always sharpen your craft. Thirty years in the industry, and her dedication had kept her thriving. That lesson sat in my chest like a warm ember.
Between panels, I met a young man from Atlanta — genuine, vibrant, full of light. He sat in the front row, engaged and fearless in asking questions. We spoke briefly, exchanged socials, and just like that, a new connection was made. Simple, yet intentional.
As I drove home that night, my heart swelled with gratitude. Just that morning, I had almost chosen ease over purpose. But God gave me the strength to rise. And now, here I was, ending my night with my spirit full, my cup overflowing. I whispered, “Thank you, God. This was not all me.”
The next morning, my journey of showing up continued. Therapy. A new therapist. A Black woman I had found on a site called Grow Therapy, in the quiet hours of the night when my heart longed for guidance. It felt divine, how seamlessly everything aligned — insurance covered it, the availability was there, and within a week, I was sitting in my first session. That hour changed something in me. She saw me. She heard me. She reflected back to me the woman I was becoming.
But the day wasn’t done. Next on my calendar: a Toastmasters meeting. My emotions tried to convince me to skip it. “You can wait for the Zoom session. Go another day,” I told myself. Procrastination sweet-talked me, but I caught it. How do I want to feel at the end of today? What small decision, right now, will shift the course of my life? The answer was clear.
In five minutes, I transformed. I traded my sweats for camouflage jeans, a long-sleeve top, a cardigan, and boots. I slicked my hair into a bun, fastened my gold hoops, touched up my face with concealer, mascara, and a bold red lip — for impact. And just like that, my energy shifted. I hopped in my car and drove an hour to the meeting.
And I’m so glad I did.
I entered a room of retired professionals, mostly white and Asian, mostly 60+, in a completely new city. I was the youngest there. But I held my space, observed, engaged. A Pepperdine professor sat next to me, eager to share his philosophies on psychedelics and spiritual awakenings. I introduced myself, made sure to be remembered, and even challenged myself to give a two-minute speech on the spot. And I killed it. The room agreed.
I left with new connections, new insights, and even a free meal — pizza, salad, cookies. But more than that, I left affirmed. People noticed me. They saw my light. They wanted to pour into me.
On the drive home, I called my friend Jay. We shared stories of our day, uplifted one another. I planted the seed of public speaking in his mind. None of this could have happened had I let fear or laziness win.
So I say this to you — show up for yourself. Even when you don’t feel like it. Even when it’s inconvenient. Even when no one else is pushing you but you.
Because on the other side of showing up? There is purpose. Alignment. Divine connection. And the quiet, resounding joy of knowing that you chose you.
So put yourself out there. The world needs your light.
Thank you for reading my blog!
