I am feeling much better after a severe bout with a cold and congestion that would not let loose for about ten days.
Comforts of Home
I think I’ve finally returned to the land of the living… slowly, gently, gratefully. Today I felt the slightest spark to read, to write, to journal, to work a puzzle—little things I had planned for this holiday break before my body reminded me it had other intentions. 🤕
But Sundays? #Sundays remain the best.
This morning I let myself sleep in. No alarms, no rushing. Just rest.
Then a long, warm shower—💕
My full face regimen—💕
Moisturized from neck to toes—💕
H2O flowing through this human system—💕
Brushed my locs and massaged my scalp—💕
I even put on my pearl earrings. I miss my mom terribly. (Her name is Pearl.) 🌿
And when I exhaled… a deep sigh moved through me like a small resurrection. My appetite still isn’t back, but I’ll take these little returns. These tiny renewals.
I’m sipping hot tea—no coffee for almost two weeks now. Outside, it’s raining, that soft hush that makes the world feel like it’s whispering. With my youngest two at work, it’s just Big Koda and me in this quiet house.
Sundays are when I sage and soulfully reset. When I choose to be here, fully, even if “here” feels tender and strange. My weekly writing—this slow, intentional ritual—has a way of improving my emotional disposition. It lets me name the weight of the world without being crushed beneath it.
I don’t have answers to any of it. I haven’t made sense of much of anything lately. But I am releasing the heaviness—the chaotic energy that keeps trying to settle in my spirit.
Today I’m still moving slowly and softly. And that feels holy enough.
“Dear friend, I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.” ~3 John 1:2
#SuperSundays: I used a gift card I won through a health app and treated myself to Starbucks this morning. I walked in, minding my business, and they handed me a free Red Cup for being a regular coffee consumer. A small, unexpected kindness. A wink from God. #WinWin 🤓
The Tribe… they were all here this weekend.
• Autumn fussed about my eating—and my not eating—habits. 🥰 A full Tillman. When she “moms” me, I hear Pearlie Mae, Val, and Keyna speaking through her. Healing comes full circle when our children carry the tone of the women who shaped us.
• Brutus texted a whole list of demands… while at work. 🧐🤷🏽♀️
• Darius seeking Umi duties. 🥰 His way of staying close.
• Damien, the big brother who shows up—not loudly, but faithfully. 💛 His presence always lifts me.
Damien and I spent Saturday together—shopping, movies, dinner. I drove him around for a bit. We got home and he immediately started dressing to go out again. I fussed because truly… he only comes to see his barber and his brother.
Him: “I’ve been with you all day.”
🤷🏽♀️🧐🙄
#FirstBornJiltsTheHeart
There’s a sacred sweetness in this stage of life—grown children finding their own paths but still circling back home in their unique ways. Their presence reminds me that love doesn’t leave; it shifts, expands, and deepens. Even the fussing is a kind of prayer.
Pair all of that with one spoiled pup and I feel surrounded by a living testimony of God’s goodness. 🌿🧡🌿 I’m leaning into these new chapters, not just gracefully—but spiritually aware.
🍂 Fall is here again. My favorite.
NC weather gave us every season this week:
🌦️☔️🌬️❄️☀️
But today is calm, bright, and warm in that gentle, soul-softening way.
This morning was #CoffeeAndQuiet and #PrayersAndSage.
A settling. A centering.
A reminder of Psalm 46:10 —
“Be still, and know that I am God.”
Stillness is not the absence of movement; it is the presence of awareness. It is choosing to pause long enough to hear what your spirit has been whispering all week.
Today, I’m reminded:
Healing isn’t optional; it’s required.
And it often begins in these small, ordinary, holy moments—
November Reflections: Reciprocity, Renewal, and Protecting the Heart
Work is creeping in, in a deep way—feeling like November and the end of Fall. I know there’s still more Autumn left, even if the weather and early darkness suggest otherwise. There’s a chill that whispers both endings and beginnings.
For now, I’ll protect my physical body with crochet scarves and my red beanie, layers of warmth and softness that feel like care. Spiritually, I’ll protect myself with scripture, hot tea, and quietness. This combination grounds me—it’s a gentle ritual of self-preservation and presence.
I will also continue to follow through with clinical encouragement and therapeutic support for my clients. I love what I practice for a living, though it often carries a great amount of heaviness. Bearing witness to others’ pain and growth is sacred work—it deepens empathy but also stretches the heart thin at times. My heart feels frayed a bit lately, yet my hope is deeper and wider.
It’s Sunday again—a new month, a renewing of time. The clocks “fell back” in the early morning hours, giving us the illusion of more rest, more time. Yet I know how long it takes for the body and spirit to catch up with the shift. This symbolic turning reminds me: don’t allow the world to cloud your intuition. Trust what you know.
Reciprocity vs. Transactional Relationships
In therapy and in life, we often examine the balance of giving and receiving—what it means to love freely while maintaining healthy boundaries. It’s important to distinguish reciprocity from a purely transactional way of relating.
A reciprocal relationship is rooted in goodwill, connection, and genuine care. It’s where giving becomes an act of love—not an investment expecting a return. It flows both ways, naturally and without keeping score.
By contrast, a transactional relationship measures worth in exchanges:
“I bought you coffee, so you owe me a coffee.”
In reciprocity, the heart says:
“I bought you coffee because I wanted to do something kind. I trust that you’ll hold me in love and care when I need it most.”
The difference may seem subtle, but emotionally and spiritually, it’s profound. Reciprocity nourishes connection. Transactionality breeds comparison, resentment, and emotional distance.
In therapy, I often remind clients that reciprocity thrives in spaces where trust and emotional safety exist. It’s a rhythm of mutual investment—where both people are free to give from overflow, not obligation.
Love, God, and the Waiting Season
Lately, I’ve returned to the dating app—not out of desperation, but curiosity and openness. It’s a strange world to navigate with a tender heart and a discerning spirit. I find myself reflecting often on why I desire partnership and how I wish to love.
Some conversations spark hope; others remind me how surface-level connection can be when rooted in transaction rather than reciprocity. There’s a quiet ache in realizing how rare it is to meet someone who’s ready to love intentionally—to listen, to give without keeping score, to see beyond what’s easy.
And yet, even as I scroll, match, and unmatch, I still believe in divine timing. I still believe that God writes love stories differently—slowly, intentionally, with purpose and alignment. So I’m learning to wait well. To stay open, but not hurried. To protect my peace while remaining hopeful that the right heart will recognize mine.
Spiritual Reflection, in Galatians 6:9, we’re reminded: “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”
This scripture grounds me as both therapist and woman—someone holding space for others while still longing for her own sacred companionship.
Even when my heart feels stretched thin, I remember that reciprocity—with myself, with God, and with others—is an act of trust. A form of love that doesn’t rush or demand, but rests and receives.
As time falls back and the days grow shorter, I choose to rest, to trust what I know, and to give from love—never from depletion.
May this November invite you, too, into warmth, rest, and a deeper understanding of how you give and receive love. And if you, like me, are waiting on God to write your love story—know that He’s still writing.
Reflection Prompt: Where in your life do you need to trust divine timing—in love, in purpose, or in the quiet in-between?
Sundays have a way of slowing me down enough to notice what time has been doing beneath the surface. The air is crisp, the light shifts, and even the trees seem to know when to release. I am in wonder of how time cloaked our struggles, yet time also reveals the required healing — the necessary strength for us to witness the why’s. In this turning season, I’m reminded that God’s work often happens quietly, layered in moments we don’t yet understand. What once felt delayed was, in truth, unfolding right on time.
Yesterday, I attended my cousin’s wedding — my second cousin, though I still remember her as the little girl with big dreams and a contagious laugh. Watching her stand there, radiant in hope and grace, marrying again with such genuine love, felt like witnessing time come full circle. The ceremony was outdoors, framed by trees touched with autumn gold, the air soft with both memory and promise.
At this age, I’m in awe of how love still finds us, how it gathers what’s been scattered by years, by loss, by change. Marriage has a way of reminding us that family expands even as it shifts — that though we’ve said goodbye to parents and grandparents, something sacred continues through us. It’s as if time weaves a quiet thread between what was and what is becoming, inviting us to see how love endures, how it unfolds anew.
This morning, before I began to write, I recorded a few thoughts — just me, my voice, and the quiet of Sunday. Sunday mornings have become their own kind of prayer for me. Waking up smiling, breathing easier, releasing the heaviness of the work week and the constant pulse of motherhood, I find myself able to go to God in a way that comforts me. There’s peace in that surrender — in remembering I don’t have to hold everything together for the world to keep turning.
I love my walks, especially now as the leaves start to fall and the air turns brisk. It’s where I feel time most gently — not rushing, not demanding, just moving with me. Each step reminds me that unfolding doesn’t require effort, only willingness. And maybe that’s what this season — this life — continues to teach me: that healing, love, and even time itself are part of a divine rhythm, one that never stops revealing what’s meant to be known in its own perfect moment.
Rest in knowing that what’s meant for you is already moving toward you. Time, love, and grace are all working together in ways you can’t yet see.
In the landscape of intimate relationships—especially ones that have ended or grown complicated—the question often arises: Do I block them, or do I set a boundary and keep the line open? Both choices carry meaning, weight, and consequences. The decision is deeply personal, but understanding the difference can help you move toward clarity and healing.
What Is Blocking?
Blocking is a hard boundary. It’s a clear, uncompromising decision: “You no longer have access to me in this space.”When you block someone, you remove their ability to call, text, or interact with you on social platforms. This is often used when continued access feels harmful, triggering, or disrespectful to your healing process.
✨ For example, one client described how every morning text from her ex felt like reopening a wound. When she finally blocked him, she said she could breathe deeper—the silence felt like freedom, not loss. She likened it to closing a door so her spirit could finally rest.
Impact of Blocking:
Immediate relief from unwanted contact.
Reduces temptation to re-engage in unhealthy dynamics.
Signals to yourself that your peace matters more than their access.
Can, however, stir feelings of finality or grief—sometimes blocking means truly accepting closure. The “what-if” ping pong game.
What Is Boundary Setting?
Boundary setting is a soft or flexible limit. It might look like muting notifications, telling the person when and how you are willing to communicate, or choosing to disengage without fully cutting off access. Boundaries require ongoing communication and reinforcement, and they often shift depending on your healing and growth.
✨ Another client chose boundaries over blocking with a co-parent. She muted notifications outside of agreed parenting hours, so she wasn’t startled by messages at night. This gave her control and calm, without shutting the door on necessary communication. She said it felt like drawing a gentle circle of protection around herself and her child.
Impact of Boundary Setting:
Preserves a sense of control without complete severance.
Allows room for civility, co-parenting, or shared responsibilities.
Requires emotional strength to hold the line when boundaries are tested.
Can prolong attachment if the other person continues to cross boundaries or send mixed messages.
Which Is Right for You?
The choice between blocking and boundary setting comes down to one central question: Does their access to me nurture my healing, or does it harm it?
If their presence disrupts your peace, drains your energy, or constantly reopens wounds—blocking may be the healthiest option.
If there is space for respect, distance, and maturity in ongoing contact—boundary setting may work.
Neither choice is about punishment; both are about protecting your well-being.
The Deeper Impact
Blocking often brings a sharper sense of relief and clarity, but also demands acceptance of closure.
Boundaries offer flexibility, but can leave cracks where old dynamics slip back in.
Both paths teach you something powerful: your care, energy, and attention are sacred resources. Choosing how to guard them is an act of self-respect.
A Gentle Spiritual Reminder
When facing the choice to block or set boundaries, it can help to soften the moment with spiritual grounding. Offer yourself a simple prayer or affirmation:
“I release what disturbs my peace. I trust that God, Spirit, and Love guide me into relationships that honor my soul. My heart is safe, my life is unfolding, and I am whole.”
Remember: healing isn’t just about saying no to someone else—it’s about saying yes to yourself, your faith, and your future.
Call to Action
If you find yourself wrestling with this decision, take time to journal, pray, or meditate on these questions:
When I allow access, do I feel peace or pain?
When I remove access, do I feel loss or freedom?
What does my spirit long for in this season of my life?
If the answers feel heavy, consider reaching out to a trusted therapist, faith leader, or supportive community. Sometimes the most spiritual act of love is to protect the vessel that is you.
Intimately Worded,
Michelle
@TransitionalPathwaysPLLC
Where healing is sacred and intimacy begins with you.
Pain has purpose, I hear that a great deal. I believe the statement to be true. Pain has purpose and I’m learning to heal with it: the pain and the purpose of the pain. I’m learning that quietness and confidence leads toward greater strength. I’m following grace and no longer leading grace. It has been another Earth Year, another birthday. I smile. I reflect. I pray. I breathe deeply and I praise God for all of intricate, unearthing, undoing and unlearning of 52 years. I am honoring my journey more.
I scheduled a few days off to celebrate my birthday; however none of the week slowed down, my stillness was high jacked and I found it difficult to sit, to deep breathe. I believe we often take for granted the days we’re given and the time we are to spend with one another.
Our souls will get weary, our physical gets tired and the mental fatigue with personal and professional life is challenging. I do not often want to go, go, go. I’m learning to not grow bitter in my living. I’m learning to release those and their actions when being helpful, productive turns towards hostility.
What I know: I have become very protective of my time. I have learned to value it more. I long for moments of solitude, of quietness. I do not feel like I need to be seen for you to “see” me. #Epiphany
I’m unlearning that my softer isn’t weakness and I’m loving this part of my growing 50s. I’m doing things different and hopefully, better. #Smile I will celebrate this birthday without a flood of anxiety and busyness. I’ve scheduled me an integrative Thai Massage and I’ll spend a day with a friend lunching and antiquing in a small town…next month. I encourage you to trust the bigger of these days, the good things of this life. Love yourSelf better and those good humans you want/and or have will always find you.
I pray that you see your miracles, live your answered prayers and love your healing path. Knowing that we want to heal and need to heal does not protect us from doing the work. Healing is hard, life grows difficult in most parts of our journey; trust where you are. I beg you not to start over just begin where you are, begin again in those moments. I love you. I see you. ~Michelle
“When the time is right, I, The Lord, will make it happen.” Isaiah 60:22.
Reader Takeaway: Pay attention to how people pull at you and what they pull from you. What parts of you are you giving away? How much does that particular giving wounds your soul?
Hard week with work and with Life. I had to make some hard decisions, not difficult just hard. There is always something. Something to do; some place to be; somewhere we’re required to go. Oftentimes, our to do’s are monotonous, familiar—then they become something bigger, different, something new. #Challenges. As I reflect, I’m asking myself did I pause enough to hear from God? Follow my intuition? Did I rush to solve due to my soul’s discomfort?
I have a lot on me as a single parent. I believe we all have struggles; I’m my human me with struggles. Financial hardship—any episode of lack or substantial amount throws me a huge crippling gut punch. I do not like it; I know this so I prepare; save and prepare. I am learning different aspects of my fears, concerns and love.
I love structure. I love familiarity. I love better, I feel better when knowing the how and when of things exactly. I prefer being able to “see.” I know I am at a different stage of my life. Lately, growth seems like soul stretches and the pain burrows deeper than the latest experience. I know blessings. I know God for what He is in my life. I know the good, the bad and the ugly. Yet, none of it feels like it is happening the way I want or pray for—His will, grace and freewill just shows up for my better and intentional. I’m learning to take deep breaths better. I’m learning this heaviness is not mine alone.
I know beauty as well. I know how the rhythms of life come together to heal us in those secret places. I know there is no emotional depth in which God cannot reach me, teach me. He loves me, my perfectly imperfect self. I believe Love works differently for each of us…allow it to work for you even in ways that seem foreign, real different and not necessarily the path you’ve envisioned. I’m learning not to suffer, unnecessarily. There’s no way for me to out love or out-know what is before me or what is manifesting its way towards me. I know my panic to be just as real as my faith. I’m willing to unlearn the old, the familiar. I’m no longer comfortable with avoidance. I have the capacity to study myself with love and gentleness.
I pray your new week gives way to clarity of your next steps. I pray the pain that keeps you stumbling is removed. I pray you give healing the options your soul deserves. I see you. I love you!
Intimately Worded,
Michelle
#MichelleMoments: Where are you in your faith? Are you doing well in practicing your faith, exercising the strength of your faith walk. I like to think I am practicing my faith with love. I was taught the stronger one’s faith the better we become in creating an intimate relationship with our Creator. Some of the answers we seek do not come easy, yet they come. Trust your pathway; it is personal.
My thoughts before and after….my intimate prayers are layered: “I ask for complete healing. I pray for a good report of the mass being benign. I ask, that You, Father, Creator, to be with me in whatever I may experience and or hear Thursday.” My tears have been unstoppable on most nights upto Thursday morning, 12/23. Thursday morning, my sister picks me up and we head to my appointment. She is told she cannot wait with me in the waiting room due to the new variant. She returns to the car. I check-in and go to the furthest corner of the waiting room and I begin to cry. Well, there is just too much time between waiting and seeing the doctor so all these thoughts occur. I worry on how to do this. I worry that my prognosis is going to be the worst. I worry that I’m too young for any of this…but that’s not a new worry. I feel as if all of my life I’ve been too young for all that has happened in my lifetime. I laugh-cry reminding myself none of these thoughts sound like your prayers. I pull myself together just as my name is called.
My nurse gives instructions to change and states she will be waiting by my door. I change. I cry some more. I exit the room and she’s waiting. Nurse: “Are you ready?” I respond, “No.” She patiently waits until I am. She smiles. We proceed. She goes over all the medical jargon, expectations and how to take care of myself after. I lay on the table, staring at the ceiling as she begins to locate the mass. Nurse: “I can’t find it. I’ve moved all the way to 12:00+.” (I pray some more, believing God has heard me, answered my prayer.) She’s trying for about 5 more minutes and she finds it. The mass moved from its initial location at 2:00-3:00+ (3 weeks ago) to 1:00+. I’m unsure what this means but I think it is a good thing the difficulty she has locating it. (They determined the location of growth/mass by clockwise direction beginning at the center of the areola.)
Dr. comes in and states: “Your mass is in your areola. The fact that it is moving means that there is fluid inside and that usually means benign. That is not definitive you will have to wait for confirmed testing.” He begins to explain the procedure, the sounds I will hear…..he is kind, his voice comforting. I turn my head, close my eyes and practice my deep breathing as they numb the area. I think they can hear me and it bothers me that I think I am a hindrance. I grow quieter. I stay focused on my breathing and not the pain in my areola; my thoughts: it’s not in the deep parts of my breast. I’m still lost; running back and forth from faith to fear, from fear to faith. “Red Rover, Red Rover send Michelle right over.” Once all was over, I honestly can say I felt better after the procedure than I did going in. My results come Tuesday, over the phone not in person. (Coronavirus Measures 101) Deep sigh again.
Biopsy Christmas. Grief. Loss. Another isolating round of this new variant-Pandemic-ish living. We’re not blindly going into this new year yet we’re exhausted. I pray that we will faithfully say goodbye to the fear with renewed perspectives of ourselves, of our humanity. Yes, 2022 is coming in heavier than 2021. I believe prayers, the fact that we have to be inclusive, insightful of all that is happening around us, those things occurring far away from us and within us is quite a spiritual undertaking; it is becoming traumatic, at times depressive. We turn more towards self-defeat and question our whys, neglecting our purpose. We’re not wrong. We are weary. Our souls ache, we are wounded souls.
I hope that you find yourSelf wading through when you’re not able to stand, lean, pray nor comprehend. Our answered prayers do not always reflect what we ask yet they seem to always be what God knows is for our best, at times our betterment and more often than not what we have the capacity to receive. Trust this timing of your life….ask for what you need…love even the more. We’re not lost. We’re finding our way.
Faith read: “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning.” James 1:17 NKJV
In reflection this Sunday morning: My day off…I am still off my routine of things. It was struggle to enjoy my mani and massage pedi. I mindfully had to make myself sit and be taken care of— for they are doing great work.
I’m noticing that I’m struggling within the easy parts of my life. My self maintenance is priority —yet even in that I’m resolved to what is the point. What is the point in all I’ve worked for and towards to be told that “there is something there.” I’m not professing hopelessness or helplessness. I’m still trying to figure out what I did wrong. I believe I’ve had to do something wrong that requires punishment. Right?Right.
Thursday mornings are my spiritual companionship times w/ my Spiritual Advisor. We’ve been together over a year now and I would say she knows me better than most. She affirms me in who I am, how I am, how I love and how I want to be loving. She doesn’t push unless she recognizes that I am not present. She gets me, all of me. Although, this Thursday morning was a struggle too—to hear her, to want to be there. Through this tough time that I am struggling with…I am fussing and complaining about mistreatment towards me, towards others, how this world is cruel at it’s best and it’s worst; I fuss about friendships, about abuse; about it all. She quietly asks me to “overstand, to know that not everyone has your gift.”
I chuckled silently and think, I’m struggling to inner-stand, understand where I am. I acknowledge that, no one is holding space for me. Deep sigh. I am committed to surviving with thriving–this in-betweenness is difficult. This week’s wins: I woke every morning with purpose. I reached out to patients outside of working hours due to their hurts along their journey. I took two vacation days without working and finishing notes. I am planning for workshops in 2022 with strategic hope. I daily connected with my children and spent time with my granddaughter. I talked to my sister and my biological Aunt Shirley. My Koda is without a doubt the most loving furbaby ever.
What I am learning: we love easier when we allow our changes to come softly. When it feels the most is falling apart…maybe the transitions bring all we’ve wanted to fruition and all is coming together. It all looks different, fearful. We’ve never been in this position before. I never expected love throughout this type of season. Redefine Love for yourSelf. My father told me once: “Michelle you’re just running in the field of flowers.” Of course, there was an hour long lecture about relationships after that. I was a teen.☺️ It’s 30 years later and I get it. I comprehend those wisdom highlights more so than ever. I miss him.
I anticipated and wanted “Love” happy, without sadness, without work. There are consequences to our choices. Undoubtedly, there are benefits to our choices as well. Every rejection, disappointment, their “no” can possibly set us on an extraordinary different path. Stop attaching your future to leftovers, to what is left. You’re dodging bullets left and right, Woman! Rise up. Level up. Do you. Protect yourSelf with love—be loving– intuitively. This is…this betterment is actual; it is what is tangible, intangible. This journey, our blessings are necessary. Our lessons learned. Our experiences personal. Everything is happening for your good—-even the current pain of right now. Choose You again and again—intimately and faithfully.
Intimately Worded with Michelle 
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