What do you love about where you live?

I just moved into my new place in Brush Park this past Saturday, and that’s why I’ve been quiet on the writing front. Now that everything’s put away and my space feels like home, I’m back to doing what I love—writing.

What I adore most about living here is how alive the area feels. Little Caesars Arena is right on the corner. Ford Field and Comerica Park are just down the street. I’m a huge fan of concerts, the Detroit Lions, and anything that brings people together. From my patio, I can hear the roar of Tigers games at Comerica—it’s like having front-row seats to the heartbeat of the city.

Soon, I’ll be working out in our fitness room and writing in the community room, which has a full kitchen and a cozy vibe that’s perfect for creativity. The apartments here are five stories tall—a big change from the 22-floor building I came from—but it feels more personal and grounded.

One of my favorite things? Watching people walk their dogs. As a dog lover, it warms my heart and makes me smile every time. The energy here fits my personality—friendly, vibrant, and peaceful. People greet each other with hellos and plenty of smiles. I feel like I’ve found my place, and I plan to stay a while.

“Don’t Greet Me Dry, It’s Too Early For That”

A few weeks ago, I walked into my dentist’s office. I always try to enter every space—with Spirit, energy, and a smile that’s just waiting to meet someone’s eyes. Hello, is free, joy is contagious, and I’m a believer in setting the temperature the moment I step into a room.

But that receptionist? She greeted me with all the warmth of a cold sink faucet. Dry. No energy. No spit in her throat. I mean—nothing. She was older and her face was TWISTED! It was only 10:30 in the morning! Her attitude caught me off guard… before I knew it, I bust out laughing. Not because I was being mean—but because her energy was that unreal. I had to laugh at myself.

Then came her coworker. She caught herself acting funky and gave me this look that said: “Oh that was meant for her.” That didn’t excuse the dry tone or lack of professionalism. What she didn’t know is… I could’ve cleared that entire waiting room OUT if I wanted to. But I didn’t. Why?

Because I don’t live on anyone else’s page. I author my own energy. I decide the vibe.

She adjusted, I adjusted, and we were cool after that—but this was a reminder: Never let anyone shift your spirit. Catch yourself, center your smile, and realign. Set the atmosphere in your life.

As women, we MUST stop talking down on men

As women, we must stop talking down on men when we’re angry, or how about PERIOD?

Words spoken in pain can slice deeper than we know. Respect in relationships or friendships is not optional—it’s foundational. Learn to smile with your eyes, speak with touch, and connect from across the room. Those are the subtle ways that build lasting intimacy.

We attracted certain energies not just by accident, but through patterns in conversation and behavior—that’s deep inner work. It’s about choosing peace, partnership, and maturity over ego and emotional chaos. Look for spiritual and emotional intelligence—not just chemistry. Some folks think love means harmony 24/7, but it’s not the disagreement—it’s how we treat each other during it.

Let’s never gaslight our men, nor make them pay emotionally for the relationships before us. That behavior doesn’t prove power—it reveals insecurity. Testing your man, trying to spark jealousy, oversharing with family and friends—those are trust-killers. Some things once said cannot be taken back.

If something doesn’t feel right between you and your partner, talk to God immediately. If you find yourself having to be disrespected and to do the disrespecting, it’s OVER. Living life does not go that way. God didn’t design us to be locked in emotional warfare. Choose peace. Choose wholeness. Choose divine alignment. Don’t waste your divine time.

Learn the lesson, move forward, and keep your spirit open to the person He has for you. You’re not a failure—it just wasn’t the alignment meant to carry you through.

Relationships are classrooms. Don’t ignore the lessons.

“The Last Shall Be First”

No Money. No Power. Just the Book of Life.

I always imagine Judgement Day as that moment when everything finally makes sense. The world’s chaos? Silenced. No more masks. No more egos. Just truth standing tall like it never needed applause.

I’m in line. Long, yes—but it’s moving. There’s no fear, just this sacred stillness thick with accountability. And the beautiful part? Titles don’t mean a thing. Power can’t skip the line. Everybody’s on the same level now.

Then here they come—celebrities, politicians, influencers dripping in confidence and yesterday’s status. Dressed like they still think the spotlight followed them from Earth. They strut up, trying to cut the line like they own this place.

I step forward. “Oh no, baby. That may have worked at award shows and photo ops, but this? This ain’t your moment. This is God’s.”

Judgement Day isn’t about who had followers—it’s about who followed truth.

And just like that, peace washes over me. Sharp. Righteous. Because justice ain’t bending for privilege today. Ain’t nobody exempt. Everybody’s got to speak on their time here.

We were told the first shall be last. And the last shall be first. This is that moment.

And if my name’s written in that Book, it’s not ‘cause I walked a flawless path. It’s ‘cause I chose love when bitterness felt justified. I forgave when revenge called my name. I trusted God when doubt made more noise than faith.

So yes—let them wait. Like we all do.

This line? It ain’t about fame. It’s about redemption. And that line we stand in? That’s Heaven’s reset. The great equalizer.

What are you curious about?

Being Filthy Rich…Quietly

There’s a version of wealth I dream about—not wrapped in luxury cars or gated neighborhoods but tucked quietly inside the heart of someone who wants to give without applause.

I don’t want to live among the rich. I don’t want to befriend the elite. I want to remain exactly who I am: someone who wakes up with the singular desire to listen to the cries God has chosen me to hear. I want to be the anonymous presence behind answered prayers—the blessing that leaves no trace but changes lives.

I imagine starting my day with a simple prayer: “God, bring me someone to help.” Then I scroll through the news—not for the drama, but to find the stories. The quiet pain. The overlooked struggle. That’s where my wealth goes. Into light bills paid quietly. Rent covered with no sender name. Groceries on the doorstep with no explanation. Joy delivered by grace, not recognition.

My cover will never be blown because my spirit doesn’t need the spotlight. I want the kind of richness that gives me time to listen, to watch, to discern. Then to act swiftly, silently, intentionally. Because true giving doesn’t need a witness—it just needs a willing heart.

How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?

If you couldn’t see me, you’d still feel me.

I’m expressive—very expressive. My face has a mind of its own. It twists, turns, and contorts with every story I hear or tell, not for show, but because I live inside each moment.

Eye contact? I don’t just glance—I lock in. I stare, intentionally and intensely, because I’m painting pictures in my mind as you’re speaking. Every detail matters. If something feels blurry, I’ll stop you, ask questions until it’s crystal clear.

That’s how I connect—with precision and purpose.

And yes, I love sarcasm. But never to offend. It’s my way of nudging people toward laughter and helping them see things from a new angle.

If you’re telling me a story, just know I’m in it with you—mapping every scene, questioning every twist, laughing at the absurd, and honoring the truth.

What’s the story behind your nickname?

My nickname is Zee-Zee, and while I can’t say for sure where it originated, I know exactly where it bloomed — from the heart of my grandmother. She was my mother’s mother.

From her two daughters, my grandmother welcomed five grandchildren into the world — each with a name, and more importantly, a nickname chosen by her own spirit and wisdom. These weren’t just pet names or playful labels. They were personalized blessings.

We are:

🌟 Zee-Zee — that’s me, the eldest of the eldest. 🌟 Dee-Dee — my cousin Dial, named by Aunt Wana, my mother’s only sibling. 🌟 Na-Na — my sister, born Yolanda, lovingly nicknamed with a gentleness that mirrors her soul. 🌟 Bobby — our brother, named after our father Robert, grounding us in legacy and tradition. 🌟 Peedie — our baby sister Electria, whose nickname sparkles with playfulness and youth.

What strategies do you use to maintain your health and well-being?

At 57, I’ve learned the importance of paying attention—not just to my surroundings, but to my body’s quiet messages. It’s a daily practice of mindfulness, noticing the subtle shifts that tell me when I’ve had too much pop, when a dinner was a little too heavy, or when my legs feel like they need more care and attention. This isn’t about restriction—it’s about restoration.

I’m a foodie. I love hamburgers. Today, I indulged in a Whopper, Pringles, and M&M’s. Not only was it delicious, but it reminded me how good it feels to satisfy a craving. Here’s the kicker—I haven’t had a Whopper at all this year. So today wasn’t about guilt. It was about joy.

But tomorrow? Tomorrow begins a reset. Back to salads, water, and sandwiches. Because I also stepped on the scale yesterday and saw that I’ve lost 7 pounds. That’s no small thing—and it came from tuning in, being aware, and making gentle adjustments. It’s amazing what we learn when we really listen to our bodies and give them what they need.

My strategy for health and well-being is simple: I pay attention. And that awareness gives me power—not just over what I eat, but over how I move, how I rest, and how I thrive.

Nurturing Gifts from a Young Age: Raising Purpose-Driven Children

One of the most important roles we have as parents is to pay attention. Not just to behavior or milestones—but to what genuinely lights up our children’s spirits. I believe that by watching our kids closely in their early years, we begin to uncover the natural gifts God placed inside of them. These moments of curiosity and passion aren’t random—they’re sacred breadcrumbs leading us to their purpose.

If we take the time to notice what they love—whether it’s drawing, storytelling, building things, helping others, or showing compassion—we can begin to nurture those interests with intention. Why wait until they’re adults to start asking “What do you want to do?” why can’t we guide them now toward creating a life rooted in meaning?

When a child loves creating or organizing, we don’t dismiss it—we celebrate it. Because those passions, when watered by a parent’s belief and God’s timing, can blossom into ministries, businesses, or movements that impact generations.

What does your children love to do? Share.

What’s your go-to comfort food?

When the day weighs heavy or the night stretches long, I turn to a ritual that never fails me—ice cream.

Chocolate and strawberry. Haagen Daz. Paired with peanuts and fresh bananas. It’s not just dessert—it’s therapy in a bowl. A small act of self-care that says, “I deserve softness.” And when I’m scooping that last bite? It’s not just about taste. It’s about reclaiming joy. So yes, my go-to comfort food is ice cream. And when I eat it, you truly can’t tell me a thing.

Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started