Eight months ago, I was in a deeply reflective space as we entered 2025. In January, I journaled publicly for the first time and it felt good. I recently republished my “2024 Reflection & 2025 Word of the Year,” post here on Substack in July. In that post, I grandly declared my guiding theme for 2025 would be Movement. I made promises to myself to get my body in motion, pushing my mental health journey forward, and help drive the movement to mobilize our community and financial industry to build the good. I just KNEW if I took my thoughts from my head into a public space I would someway, somehow, be imbued with the type of motivation fueled by positive accountability. I was ready to kick irrational fear out the driver’s seat of my life.

If you like you can revisit that post before we dive into what came next.

I had to put down Beau, my dog, MY DAWG, of seventeen years which crushed me; and a week later, an emotional floor collapsed beneath me when I lost my paternal grandmother. Within that week, tears quickly gave way to numbness. I became incapable of feeling anything, or unwilling to if I am keeping it a buck (I’ll dive deeper into that in a later post.)

2025 came in hot! Who actually gets time to truly heal in a capitalist society that demands you keep moving, keep consuming, keep producing for the benefit of a system that prioritizes profit over people. Unfortunately there is no Sorcerer Supreme with an Eye of Agamotto in this timeline to the best of my knowledge.

Meanwhile, a President who aspires to be a king, ruling by executive order to satisfy his ego at the expense of our economy, our environment, and equity, set his sights on Texas to further his effort maintain power without accountability, without checks and balances. He reached out to his political pick‑me sycophant only to find that his boy, Governor Abbott, didn’t need much convincing. Ever the eager MAGA understudy channeling his own Icarus flight, auditioning for a higher office he’ll never reach, called a special session with the primary purpose to gerrymander districts like mine out of the representation we voted for.

In case you didn’t know, over the last 3 census Texas has become increasingly browner. According to U.S. Census data, we have the largest Black population in the country and are now a majority non-white state with low voter turnout, let me correct myself suppressed voter turnout. Between 2000 and 2020, our Hispanic population grew 71.5% while non-Hispanic whites grew only 6.0%. It won't be long before Texas shifts from red to purple, and not long after that, I believe we'll see a blue-ish hue.

My alma mater, the University of Texas at Arlington, hosted the last public hearing on these mid‐decade maps—a hearing I attended, where our opposition went viral and, in my opinion, helped fuel the Texas House Democrats to use every democratic tool—including breaking quorum—to stop Trump's blatant power grab. I captured a couple moments and posted them on threads and TikTok that also went viral.

I can’t see this as just politics on a map. It’s my home, my neighbors, and my democracy on the line. And disappointingly, it has me asking: how do I keep moving forward when everything inside tells me to stop? I know people mean well when they tell me to “find balance, close your laptop, don’t work so much.” I get the sentiment, and I genuinely appreciate the care behind it. But every time I hear it, I get mad, because how do I step back when the very system I’m trying to change weighs on me every single day.

Sure, I can turn the tv off, I have honestly cut back drastically, I only earnestly, started watching the news again at the beginning of this summer when I saw how authentically Don Lemon was covering the news on his new show “The Don Lemon Show” on Youtube. I also listen to Clay, Karen, Lurie, and Reecie on Urban View when I am in the car and if I still haven’t got my fix from them, I watch my DVR recordings of Abby Phillip and Laura Coates. Although, seeing Scott Jennings smugly looking into the camera every second on NewsNight performing for an audience of one (Trump, if I need to be clear) really disturbs my peace.

Turning my thoughts off towards all of this off with a flick of a switch outside of the 9-5 work? That’s where it gets complicated, if not seemingly impossible.

I have never seen this work as means to an end, a way to collect a paycheck. I truly believe this is what God has called me to do with my life —my ministry.

Mind you, I have spent my entire thirties exclusively dedicated to this work. I have built friendships, reshaped my worldview, and yes, carved out a better life for myself and hopefully for those I care about. If you can’t tell yet, “the work” has become the lens through which I’ve grown, learned, and found purpose. And, I can’t believe I am about to say this publicly so soon, “this work” steadies me I confront my own unhappiness around my weight and phobias of flying and driving which have spiraled out of control. The person who wrote the 2024 Reflection and 2025 Word of the year post would have never thought that my mental and physical would be progressing at a sloth’s pace so deep into the year. Admitting that distresses me.

Again, I know to get over this particular phase of life that I need to go through it. I understand the importance of exposure therapy, I know the calls from family and friends to “face it head on”, “power through”, “be stronger than I am now” come from a place of care. But each reminder of how much of my life I am missing out on is more harmful than helpful right now because I am painfully aware of what life would look like for me if I just flipped the switch.

At 41, still without children of my own, I’m caught in a feedback loop: mourning what is gone, shrinking away from fully participating in life in a way that could lead to more life. And yet, that very desire to expand my own family is what drives me. I give so much of myself to this work because I want to offer my future children something better than what we’ve collectively inherited.

So I’ll keep moving forward. With every step, I’ll wear this smile trusting what’s to come will be better days for my mind and body, but more importantly, a brighter future for the family I hope to welcome and the world that we all share.

If you’ve been connected with me online, you might already know that I tend to close out each year with reflections about the past 12 months of my life and share a word—or sometimes words—that I use as my guide for the year ahead. Sometimes, these reflections are joyful; others get super vulnerable. And keeping it 100, I know there have been years where I’ve shared things that might have made some people uncomfortable to read. But that’s who I am; authenticity is one of my core values, and I’d rather be genuine than popular.

Last December, I chose two words for 2024: kindness and grace. And while I won’t say I “failed” at them, I certainly didn’t embody those words as much as I’d hoped. I have learned that these words weren’t about perfection; they’re reminders to move through this life with more kindness and grace toward myself and others. This past year, I did a lot of work on myself—mentally and emotionally. My anxiety and depression continued to DO THE MOST. Still, I’m so grateful for the guidance of my incredible therapist, Jasmine. I can’t recommend her highly enough—she’s helping me sort through my emotions and feelings and organize my thoughts to make sense of it all. If you’re looking for a therapist, hit me up; I’d be more than happy to pass along her information.

But 2024 wasn’t just about inward work—it was also a year of showing up for the community in person and virtually. I stayed consistently busy throughout the year with my financial activism and advocacy work. I am leading a campaign at work called Bank Black & Green to mobilize impact investors to move $180 million to Black banks that pledge not to finance the growth of the fossil fuel industry and mass incarceration. My work has been incredibly fulfilling, but this year also drained me when the heaviness of the world around me, mainly the madness of the election cycle, was added.

While I am disgusted with the outcome of the Presidential and Senatorial results of the 2024 Election, I see the pathway to some semblance of peace of mind because I know I did everything I could, in a professionally nonpartisan way, to get out the vote (GOTV). I helped put on a GOTV Party at the Polls event with some incredible people and organizations in Oak Cliff; I was nominated for Community Leader of the Year for the 7th Annual COSIGN Awards and received a President’s Leadership Award from the Dallas-Fort Worth Urban League Young Professionals. So, I do have a lot to be proud of. However, I, the self-professed “political newsaholic,” have not turned on the TV to watch any of it since election night. I am still feeling some type of way, especially about the normalization of absurdity and the prioritization of profit over people. I promise you will hear about it all in future posts from me, “I GAR-ON-TEE!”

And then there was fear—a feeling I never thought would control me so much. I realized I had let fear take the wheel in many areas of my life. It drove me away from showing up for key moments—personally and professionally.

I’ve let fear sit in the driver’s seat for too long. It’s time to take control of my body and mind again. I must revoke its license to operate in my life. It’s time to build connections and create meaningful change with others. It’s time to move.

This word feels right for where I am now. It has so much versatility for me—the movement of my body, mind, and sociopolitical movement building. These are the pillars I want to focus on this year. I’m committed to moving forward physically, mentally, and socially. I didn’t hit the physical fitness goals I set for myself in 2024—if anything, I might have gone in the opposite direction.

I have made progress on my mental health goals, and there is more that I want to do. Additionally, while there is only so much we can do to move things forward on a federal level, there is SO MUCH we can do on a regional, state, and local level. I am all in for that type of work. So, here’s to movement in 2025. I hope we can do more together—through conversations, actions, or building something greater than ourselves. Let’s move forward together.

Before I sign off, I want to shout out a big thank you to my amazing friend and fraternity brother, Justin Nash, who created this website to help me share my thoughts, updates, and resources in a centralized place. He’s been rocking with me from the beginning, supporting me every step of the way, and I’m incredibly grateful. If you’re looking for someone to help visualize your ideas, he is THE MAN. You can find him under the “Build with the People Around You” section the About Stephone page. Also, if you don’t see your name there, don’t worry—it’s coming! I am showing the construction phase and not just the finished product. I am so serious about building with the people around me. Issa Rae, you ate that when you said that in an interview some years ago, and I took that seriously. I want to use all my tools and resources to build a collaborative ecosystem.

So, more to come. Here’s to movement. Let’s make it happen.

P.S. If you want to be a part of this movement, stay tuned for more updates and posts! You’re an important part of this journey, and I’d love for you to be with me as we move toward something greater in 2025.

I met shareholders and investors determined to hold institutions accountable and push for real progress. I connected with advocates and consumers who are fighting to ensure we have strong consumer protections, so that everyone has the chance not just to survive, but to thrive. I shared space with lawyers and policymakers dedicated to centering those first and worst impacted by injustice in the laws we want to pass.

Why Local Matters

It’s TOO easy to caught up in the headlines that this Administration in generating, but I’m reminded every day that the real work, that is changing lives, is happening in our neighborhoods, cities, and states. The people I met this week are proof that local action is powerful, and that when we show up for each other, we plant seeds for lasting change.

A Memorial Day Reflection

As we head into Memorial Day, a renewed sense of hope is starting to bloom within me again and I want you to feel encouraged, too. We gon' be alright. Our ideas, our passion, and our collective action are the lights that guide us through what is feeling like dark times for so many of us.

By coming together in our communities, we honor those who have made the greatest sacrifices, and we continue the work of building a more just future.

Let’s keep showing up for each other locally because the work we do together at home is just as vital as the work we advance at the national level.

The seeds we plant now, in our neighborhoods and cities, will one day be reflected nationally.