Still in Motion

Navigating Healing, Politics, and Purpose

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.

But barely sixty days in, everything stopped.

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.

And now, as a TX-33 resident, I find myself directly in the crossfire of this assault on democracy.

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.

How do YOU power down and pretend it’s not happening?

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.

Peace, safety, security, and stability, are the ingredients for me to start cookin’ again and they are fresh out of those on UberEats so I’ll keep foraging.

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.