New Year, Same Me- Only Better

Happy New Year.

It’s officially 2026, and when I tell you I’ve never been more excited about a year — I mean that from the innermost part of me that, for far too long, remained dormant. A dormancy planted by years of pain and a refusal to acknowledge its existence. 

I’m excited about this year because it holds promise. A promise that is finally mine — because I’m allowing myself to feel it. To invite it in. Like opening the door on a beautiful summer day just to let the breeze move through the house, I’ve opened the door to possibility.

Some of those possibilities are ones I once thought were impossible. 

Others… I wasn’t even sure I wanted.

Like love.

If you’ve been following me on Instagram, you may have noticed that for the first time in a very, very long time — I’ve opened my heart to it.

Maybe it’s because, for the first time in my life, I’m ready to be in the arms of a man knowing fully who the fuck I am.

In, out, and in between. I know myself now — in ways that only came from silence. From solitude. From healing. From years of being alone.

For over five years, I’ve been single. 

Actually — let me rephrase that.

I’ve spent most of the forty-one years I’ve had on this planet alone.

You might find that hard to believe, but since I started dating at twenty-eight, I’ve spent a total of six years in relationships.

Six.

I’ve never been a woman who dated around. I feel love too deeply to treat it passively. I’ve never had a one-night stand. I never participated in hookup culture. I’ve always preferred being single to being with a man simply for the sake of not being alone.

That doesn’t mean loneliness didn’t creep in.

Or that there weren’t nights when my heart, my body, and yes — my hormones — wished I could be the “sharmoota” everyone assumes I am. Just for the sake of company. Just to feel a body next to mine during those long, quiet nights, only perpetually single women truly understand.

Being single for so long forced me to realize — almost fearfully — that I might actually be content alone. 

I spent my time serving myself and others. And in doing so, serving God.

Still, there was always a voice that whispered: This time alone won’t last forever. Use it wisely.

And wisely meant investing in me.

My healing.
My mental health.
My understanding of love and connection.
What compatibility really looks like — not on paper, but in practice.

And most importantly, I began to build the man I wanted. Exactly as I’ve been preaching to my clients for years.

Not his face.
Not his height.
But his nature.

How he spends his weekends.
How he loves.
How he shows respect.
His devotion.
His faith.
His chivalry. His unwavering nature.

There’s nothing more unattractive to me than a little boy disguised as a man — one who can be easily persuaded, led away from the woman he loves because friends, co-workers, or family disapprove. I want a man who stands firm. A man who leads, who chooses boldly, and whose love is unshakable.

When I finished writing him into my Build My Man journal, I closed it and put it away. I went back to focusing on myself — fully convinced love would arrive when it was meant to. No desperation or urgency whatsoever.

And then it did.

Maybe one day I’ll tell you the story of how a woman met a man who felt almost otherworldly one cloudy afternoon in Chicago. Someone who, after a week offered her a promise ring — not as a proposal, but as intention. And simply said, “You’re the one. You’re where my story ends. I’ll wait — as long as I have to.”

Perhaps fast to some. But it came after a little over a month of getting to know one another — after we had both decided to be exclusive. A non-negotiable for any man I choose is this: when a decision is made, it is made visibly. Not because love should be rushed, but because clarity should never be delayed.

And in all fairness — I would be remiss as a relationship expert not to add this: a ring doesn’t stop a man from cheating. Choosing the right man does.

And time, patience, truly loving and seeing my worth brought love into my life. As it so often does.

It also brought relentless anxiety.

The kind a woman feels when she believes she’s finally found happiness — only to fear it might be stripped away by a health scare that’s been unfolding since October. (If you haven’t read Part One, start there.)

By January 3rd, I had spent four months moving from test to test. Appointment to appointment. Waiting. Wondering. Hoping. Praying. 

And still — another week to go.

Time.

So much time spent waiting.

In this space, so much good arrived — and yet, so much fear sat beside it.

I couldn’t help but wonder if my life was about to become a romantic comedy — as it so often feels — or a Greek tragedy.

One where the lead character finally receives everything she’s worked and suffered for. Where she finally gets on her purpose and mission…

Or one where the curtain simply closes for good.

The unknown is terrifying.

With your health.
Your career.
Your relationship.
Your entire life.

The unknown is a black hole — little light, no guarantees — and all you can do is wait and let time run its course.

But I made a promise to use the start of 2026 as a cue to stop waiting.

I’m fucking done waiting!!!

Done waiting on results.
On answers.
On permission. 

On accountability. 

On others. 

So I chose to do.

I chose to begin the year by returning to myself — and to all of you.

Because time is too precious to spend only hoping, worrying, and waiting. It’s meant to be lived. Actively. Intentionally. With purpose. 

I’ve already wasted enough of it watching life pass me by from the bleachers — full of thoughts, full of opinions, full of dreams — but too afraid to step onto the field.

I lost my courage a long time ago.

Wrong people. Wrong spaces. Wrong versions of myself.

But not anymore.

I learned months ago that action was the way back to myself. And now that I’ve found her again, there is no chance in hell I’m letting her go or allowing her to waste anymore time. 

And maybe the point was never to know what happens next — only to refuse to disappear while waiting to find out.