March 2 was my birthday, but honestly, we’re celebrating all month long . Because when life gives you moments like this, you stretch them out, savor them, and invite everyone you love to join in the joy. I turned 41. Forty-one. That number still feels surreal, because as the Black eldest daughter, I never really thought about the future past the next day. I grew up in survival mode, and if I’m being honest, pieces of that still linger. The idea of getting older, of thriving ,

There are days when I feel like I’m bursting with stories. Not just plotlines, but entire worlds, emotions, conversations, characters who refuse to stay quiet. They show up when I’m driving, when I’m trying to sleep, when I’m drinking my cherry Pepsi and thinking about something else entirely. Like, girl, calm down, DAMN! And every single time, I think, how am I supposed to get all of this out with only two hands and a limited number of hours in the day, a day job, and two ki