Still Not Famous, But Here's My Latest Ramble.

I did what society told me to do. 

Went to school. Got the degrees. Did the work. Not once. Not twice. I’ve reinvented myself more times than I can count.

I followed the script, so why hasn’t the reward shown up?

People are passing the bar. Getting into Med school. Making six figures in fields that made room for them. Good for them. That’s their journey. But why is mine always barricaded?

I chose media because it’s been part of me for as long as I can remember. Sure, I’ve explored other interests, but why should I walk away from what’s deeply rooted in my soul? I’ve put in the work, reaching out to people locally, connecting with professionals in different areas, even traveling to Baltimore to meet with a news anchor, all while exploring various opportunities within the media world. So why the wall? Why does it feel like no matter how much I push, the world isn’t opening up?
Why is my choice not as accessible?

Don’t tell me “my time will come” and then in the same breath say “life is short.”
Who came up with this stuff? Maybe I'm missing something here. 

There’s no way I’ve been doing all this—being obedient, doing the inner work, praying, pushing and the universe hasn’t taken notice. It doesn’t make sense.

And before anyone tries to correct me for saying “the universe” instead of “God” or “Holy Spirit,” let’s pause.
This is MY story, MY words. I’m not here to debate vocabulary.
I’ve prayed. I’ve cried out. I’ve fasted.
I’ve called on the highest power, the one who created the very universe I’m speaking of.
So no, saying “universe” doesn’t take away from my faith.
It just means I’m choosing words that reflect MY experience, not someone else’s script.
Focus on the message, not the terminology.

Where was I, oh, ok yes...

I’ve built something from nothing. No team. No handouts. Just me.
Every piece of jewelry, every blog post, every idea, I showed up for it.
I didn’t just wish. I WORKED. I stayed up late, taught myself everything I didn’t know, and I still do.
But somehow, it still feels like I’m running in place.

This isn’t some casual hobby. I’ve done the research. Learned the platforms.
Stayed up editing, writing, creating, dreaming.
Not just when it felt good, especially when it didn’t.
I taught myself because no one else taught me. I pushed because no one else pushed me.

I pray. I reflect. I reset. I work.
So, again—what else am I supposed to do?

Let’s go back.

I didn’t come from a household that pushed me to dream big.
I didn’t have parents who looked at me and said, "You can do anything."
I didn’t have guidance. I didn’t have check-ins.
I had a structure that prioritized control over care.
And I had diabetes, used not as something to be understood, but something to be held against me.
Like it was an inconvenience. Like it disqualified me from moving forward. 

There was no building me up. There was only "you’re the problem," and “what’s wrong with you?”
When really, what was wrong was the lack of support.

Let’s not act confused.
I grew up in one household.
One set of dynamics.
So, how is it that when I made decisions as an adult rooted in survival and independence, suddenly everyone’s confused? 

I’m not talking bad about my parents, I’m speaking the truth.
The kind of truth people avoid because it would require them to look in the mirror.
To admit they dropped the ball.
To admit they left a child to figure out life alone, and now can’t comprehend why that child doesn’t operate like everyone else. Why is their child so adamant about being successful in life, adamant about getting to a certain goal in life at a certain time. (That's a whole other blog post chile.)

Oh, where would I be if I had just been asked:
"What do you want to be?"
"How can we help you get there?"

But that’s neither here nor there.
Except it is. Because when you feel stuck, you start tracing the roots.
Trying to understand how long ago the delays started.
And how much catching up you’ve had to do since.

I still showed up. I still kept going. It wasn’t until I hit my mid-thirties that I had to sit down and have a real talk with myself about what I needed to do. I had to get it together and quick. To this day, I’m still figuring it out. But now, I’m wiser. I give myself grace—not as much as I should, but it’s better than before when I’d take a step forward and then fall right back into old patterns, focusing on people and things that were toxic for me. But no ma’am, no sir, not anymore. I had to get it together, honey.

I still pour everything I have into what I create—even when I’m exhausted.
Even when I’m overlooked.
Even when it feels like none of it is working.

So now, as I sit here, doing everything right and still getting no response, I can’t help but ask:

What more do I need to prove?

This is about wondering how much longer I’m supposed to push without seeing a shift.

Don’t tell me “everyone goes through it.”
No, they don’t.
Let’s be honest.
Not everyone had to raise themselves emotionally.
Not everyone had to heal while still bleeding.
Not everyone had to build something from absolutely nothing, with no blueprint, no head start, no hand to hold.

So, again.
What else do I need to do?

Because I’m not asking for a shortcut.
I’m asking for the door I’ve been carving with my own hands to finally open.

I just want to see the light.
Not the kind other people talk about.
The kind I’ve fought for.

Maybe this isn’t just about the career. Maybe it’s about unlearning what I was told to settle for. About facing the truth that showing up day after day without results is exhausting, frustrating in ways most people won’t ever understand. But I’m still here, scratching my head, trying to figure it out. Something has to give. This healing isn’t pretty! It’s raw, uncomfortable, and doesn’t always make sense. But hey, I’m still here, still getting my name out there, even if it means writing a thousand stories to make sure it’s seen.

And I know I’m not the only one here. Maybe you’ve been there too, doing everything you’re “supposed” to do, but still wondering why things aren’t clicking. If you’re feeling stuck, trust me, I get it. People on the outside looking in, not knowing the battles you fight day in and day out, just to make it in this world. Let’s keep moving, even when it feels like the light’s not there yet, because one day, it will be.