This year, I’m holding onto two guiding words: hope and possibility.

Navigating long COVID and post-exertional malaise has been humbling, challenging, and deeply reflective. With support from my doctor and my community, I’m making progress—my treatment plan is working, and my brain fog is starting to lift.

But healing is not linear. Crash days remind me how much rest I still need, and asking for support has pushed me to lean into vulnerability in ways I never imagined.

In my latest blog, I’m sharing updates on my health, reflections on internalized ableism, and how rest is teaching me to embrace care, community, and new possibilities for 2024.

I thought I could push through. After a few “good” days, I told myself I could ease back into work—but my body had other plans. Post-exertional malaise (PEM) reminded me that rest isn’t a choice for me right now.

Sitting down has been humbling, uncomfortable, and isolating. Capitalism doesn’t care that I can’t work—it just cares about whether I can pay the bills.

But community? Community cares. And right now, I need your help to navigate this season of rest.

In this blog, I reflect on how PEM has reshaped my relationship with work, the fight to rest in a system that doesn’t allow for it, and how you can support me—whether through a kind message, paying a utility bill, or sharing this post.

Living with chronic illness has changed the way I think about work—and myself.

In a world that tells us to push harder, I’m learning to listen to my body, honor my limits, and embrace the slower rhythms of late fall. Like the trees shedding their leaves and the earth retreating into rest, I’m finding that this season of hibernation has a purpose.

But it’s not easy. Slowing down can feel isolating. Chronic illness often pulls you out of sync with the world, making you wonder if you’re falling behind. Yet, I’ve come to realize that this pause is an act of care—not just for me, but for the collective.

In my latest blog, I reflect on how chronic illness is changing my relationship with work, the lessons of slowing down, and how rest now prepares me to show up in the spring with energy and purpose.

If you’ve been following me these last 60 days, you know my life has been a hot mess on public display. From moving my family to recovering from COVID, it’s been one challenge after another—and honestly, I’m still finding my way back.

The truth is, healing doesn’t end when the test turns negative. Getting back on my feet—mentally, physically, and financially—takes time. And I want to do it the right way, by honoring what my body and spirit need, not rushing back into the grind just to survive.

But here’s what I’ve learned: Rest is a Blessing. Slowing down isn’t weakness—it’s liberation. And I don’t have to do this alone.

In this post, I’m sharing my journey, what I’ve learned about vulnerability, and how you can walk alongside me during this next phase—whether through a kind message, sharing the post, or offering financial support.

Recently, my family and I were blessed with an extraordinary act of transformative solidarity from our dear friends, Lisa and her husband, KC. During a housing crisis, they—two individuals with access to capital and resources—made a profound decision: they took their home off the market to support us. This wasn’t just a temporary act of kindness; it was a courageous demonstration of trust and compassion that spoke directly to the heart of systemic inequities in homeownership and wealth distribution.

In a world where the voices of creators, especially those of color, are too often drowned out or appropriated, taking control of our own narrative is not just a choice—it's a necessity. This is why I decided to transition "Heal Your Way Forward" to a subscription-based model. It's a step towards safeguarding our creative expressions and ensuring that the community that grows around this content is one that values and respects the labor that goes into it.