There are mornings I wake up already behind. Before I even open my eyes, I feel it. The weight of everything I haven’t done yet. The person I thought I’d be by now. The pressure to prove that I’m okay. That I’m healing fast enough, growing deep enough, and doing life “right.”
It’s exhausting.
Somewhere along the way, I was handed an invisible script. And even after some of the people who gave it to me were long gone or had denied me, I kept holding on to it.
I memorized it. It became the story I kept living.
Be stronger. Be softer. Be productive but also rested.
Be present for everyone but never lose yourself.
And if you mess up, explain it.
If you slow down, justify it.
If you’re quiet, make sure no one mistakes it for weakness.
But today, I’m asking myself something I’ve never really let myself ask before.
What if I don’t have to prove anything today?
Not my worth.
Not my strength.
Not my healing.
Not my dreams.
Not even my weaknesses.
What if being here, alive, breathing, is enough?
That pause is scary. Even when I try to slow down, my brain resists. It sends the alarms.
It’s like my mind calls in the tactical unit. Men in black uniforms, bulletproof vests, plate carriers, reinforced knees, and combat boots. Armed with tasers, handcuffs, and radios to coordinate my takedown. Basically, it becomes a Shemar Moore SWAT episode…and somehow you’re the mission.
What chance do we even have?
Then it always ends with something simple. What’s for lunch today? When was the last time you made that couscous they all loved?
It’s like my mind only knows how to measure love in service. And anything less than effort feels like failure.
Maybe this is the moment before everything shifts. The space where something softer finally gets to speak, if we let it.
So, I ask you. Will you sit with this thought a little longer? I know what I’m about to say might sound like one of those pageant answers. You know the ones. They ask, “What would you change in the world?” and everyone says world hunger or world peace.
If I were ever on that stage (doubt I ever will be, but still), this would be my answer:
I would end the hunger inside our own minds, and silence the voices that shame us, rush us, erase us, and lock us up. Voices that grow so loud, they start to sound like the truth. And we start to believe them.
I think if we could quiet that noise, even just for a day, maybe we’d have space again. To dream. To heal. To build something real. For ourselves. For each other.
And maybe even solve world hunger too.
So today, my small, big self declares it.
Because every meaningful movement in history had a name : )
And on Heart First Day,
We stop trying to earn our place in the world.
We do things that energize us.
We say what we once needed to hear.
We walk heart first.
We follow the laughter,
The forgiveness,
The cries that heal.
Maybe I believe in this so strongly now because I know what it feels like to live without it. To survive first and understand later.
I’ve lived through things I never thought I’d survive. I’ve stood up on days when my body and spirit felt too tired to carry even one more thing. I’ve held joy and grief in the same breath. Smiled through worry. Comforted others while silently trying to hold together the pieces of myself.
And I know you have your own version of that too. The kind of moments no one celebrates. But they shape you. They shape us.
And still, we forget.
We forget how far we’ve come because we’re always chasing what’s next. We forget that staying soft in a world that demands hardness is its own kind of strength. We forget that rest is a place we can stay. That being called different is our power. That healing without answers is possible.
So I’m writing this for both of us.
If you're tired or not feeling your best, it's okay to raise your hand and ask for help. And when you're uncertain, trust your instincts. If you're made to feel like you haven’t done enough, I promise you've already done more than most will ever know.
Can you try to remember that?
You don’t owe the world a performance. You don’t have to explain the pace of your own life. You are allowed to be a work in progress and still be worthy of love, kindness, and gentleness. Right now. Not when you’re more healed. Not when you’re more ready. Right now. At this very moment while you’re reading this sentence.
So imagine this:
You're on the stage, standing tall in your beautiful outfit. The lights are warm on your skin. The world is watching. So you smile, because this is the moment you've been waiting and working for. A man with kind eyes and gorgeous dimples leans in and asks, “What would you change in the world?”
And just like that,
Your answer lives in the air.
Could you let that answer be enough for you?
I’m naming today as that day for myself. And I hope, wherever you are, you’ll name it for yourself too. So we can both try, together.
Wholeheartedly,
Nimo
