🌿 Rooted in Movement: A Soft Summer of Living Light

This summer, I am living differently.

Not because I chose chaos, or ran out of options—but because I finally chose myself.
Right now, I don’t have a fixed address.
Instead, I’m staying in hotels and Airbnb’s, sometimes for a few days, sometimes a little longer.

And for the first time in a long time, I feel free.

💼 This Isn’t “Failure”—It’s Flexibility

For years, I was conditioned to believe that success meant stability in the most traditional sense: a home, a mortgage, furniture that stayed in one place. But for someone like me—a neurodivergent, creative, single mother building a whole new life from the ground up—that version of stability felt like a cage. I married my high school sweetheart and didn’t get to experience any other way of living. Once my landlord in Philadelphia decided to raise the amount of my rent significantly, and I knew I wanted to return to New Jersey anyway, I figured that now was my chance.

We’re house hunting at the moment.

Relaxing in front of our first Airbnb of the summer, Princeton, NJ

This summer, I get to pay one bill instead of seven.
There’s no maintenance schedule, no overdue utility notices.
Each hotel room or Airbnb I enter is a clean slate. Literally and energetically.

This lifestyle wasn’t born out of ease—but it is becoming easeful.

🌊 A Different Kind of Rest

People assume this life must be stressful. That not having a home base means I’m lost.

But let me tell you something: when you’ve spent years over-functioning, holding everyone together, and trying to fit into structures that weren’t designed for you—living light can feel like exhaling.

My nervous system is the calmest it’s been in years.
My child is safe and loved. He loves the swimming pools and sense of adventure; mostly he loves seeing his mother’s sparkle returning to her eyes.
And I’ve found that you can still create joy, beauty, and ritual—even in transition.

🌀 For Neurodivergent Women, This Might Be a Soft Life Hack

Now I live in a space that resets itself.
I wake up in clean sheets. I can focus on creating, resting, and mothering without the constant background noise of “what have I forgotten?”

And that—for someone with ADHD, Autism, and a tender, overstimulated nervous system—feels like a luxury. Even if it’s for a short while, it’s a bit of a reset that I’m grateful for.

📣 Why I’m Sharing This

I’m telling this story not because I need pity—but because I know there’s someone reading this who’s holding shame about how their life looks right now. Maybe you’re in between homes. Maybe you left a relationship. Maybe you’re building a dream with nothing but faith and a suitcase.

If that’s you:
You’re not failing. You’re adapting. You’re choosing yourself. You’re softening.
And that’s brave.

☕ Want to Support the Journey?

If you’ve ever resonated with my writing, my story, or the communities I’ve built—this is a moment where your support would mean the world.

I’m sharing my journey through blog posts, reels, and reflections this summer. If you’d like to contribute to this chapter of living light:

💛 [Buy Me a Coffee here]

Your support helps me cover daily needs and the tools to keep telling these stories in real time.

✨ A Soft Invitation

In a world that tries to rush us toward ownership, permanence, and perfection—this season is teaching me something different:

You can still be grounded, even in movement.
You can still belong, even without a home base.
You can still bloom, even while untethered.

Thanks for walking with me.

Black Girls Living Lavishly