REPAIR

Let’s talk about what REPAIR looks like? Not the Instagram version. The real one.

A little while back, a good girlfriend, we’ll just call her Tiana, cause that is her name. LOL. She looked me up and down and said – “you look nothing like you did when you were married”. Now my first reaction was... ‘excuse me’? What exactly are you saying? But before I could get too deep in my feelings, she kept going. She was talking about my clothes. My colors. The way I carry myself. She even had something to say about my behind – it’s just what we do – she referenced how I no longer try to hide it. And I had to laugh. Because she was right.

A few days later, I happened to be looking through some old photos. And I saw it. Dark clothes. Covered up. Playing small in every single frame. Compare that to last fall when I showed up to a concert - alone, by the way, in a sheer top. Bra showing. Stomach exposed…. Old me would never. New me be looking for reasons.

But here is the thing. This is not really about clothes. The outside just finally caught up with the inside. I spent years hiding - not just my body, but my voice, my laugh, my whole loud, crazy, joyful self. I even used to take a lot of selfies - not out of vanity, but because I genuinely wanted to see myself. As I see me. Not through anyone else's lens. And now when I scroll back, I see exactly what changed. Not just what I am wearing. But who is standing inside it.

Here is the context that matters though. I got married at 21. Twenty. One. While other people my age were out living, figuring themselves out, making mistakes and learning from them - I was having babies. I hadn’t become myself yet. I didn’t know who I was, what I liked, what I would and would not accept. I was a young girl from a complicated background who was looking for love and thought she had found it. And I stayed - for 32 years - longer than I should have, longer than was good for me, because leaving felt impossible. Until it wasn't my choice anymore. And honestly? I believe God had something to do with that. He moved me when I would not move myself.

I used to feel frustrated with that 21-year-old. But I have learned something about her. She did not know what she did not know. And she was doing the best she could with what she had been given. So now I just feel compassion for her. She was sweet and scared and she deserved so much better. And now, at 57, I am finally giving it to her.

That is repair.

And it shows up everywhere. In dating - which is its own whole conversation - but let me just say, figuring out who you are at 57 after 32 years of marriage is a journey. What do I even like? What do I actually want? What will I absolutely not accept? Those are not small questions when you never really got to ask them the first time around.

It shows up in my faith too. I will be honest with you - this season has shaken some things loose spiritually. I have had to ask hard questions about what I actually believe versus what I was conditioned to believe. And I do not have all the answers. What I do know is that God has been present in this. He has carried me through moments I did not think I would survive. That part I am certain of. The rest I am still sitting with.

Now - I want to tell you about something I came across that just made everything click for me. There is a Japanese art form called kintsugi. I am no expert, I just love it. The idea is that when a ceramic piece breaks, instead of throwing it away or hiding the damage, artists repair it with gold. The cracks become the most beautiful part of the piece. Evidence of a life fully lived. Proof that it survived.

When I learned about kintsugi I thought - that is exactly it. That is what we are doing. We are not trying to go back to what we were before the break. We are filling the cracks with gold.

As with other parts of this journey, repair is hard. It requires you to actually look at the damage - and a lot of us would rather stay busy than get still enough to see what needs tending. The real tension is this: repair asks you to be honest about your pain and believe you are worth healing, at the same time. That second part is where we stumble. Because a lot of us have been told - directly or otherwise - that our needs come last. I am here to call that out for exactly what it is: a lie.

Repair is not about fixing what is broken. It is about honoring what survived. And sis - look at what survived. Look at you. Still here. Still standing. Still figuring it out. That is not nothing. That is everything.

This week I just want you to pick one thing. One area - your body, your faith, a relationship, the way you talk to yourself - and ask: what would it look like to show up for this with a little more tenderness? Not a full overhaul. Just one honest, loving act. One gold seam at a time.

You are not past your prime. You are a woman in the beautiful, necessary, courageous process of becoming whole. And I cannot wait to see who you are becoming.