Some Days Gratitude Feels Heavy

Daily Reflections in Real Time

Today, I am tired.

Not the kind of tired that sleep fixes overnight.

The kind of tired that sits in your chest.

The kind that makes your body heavy and your mind quiet at the same time.

I am sitting in the bus after work, and I honestly feel like when I get home, I just want to throw myself down and disappear into silence for a while.

Work has actually been going better lately.

The tension has eased.

Things have settled down.

But somehow, after carrying so much emotionally for so long, I think my body is finally feeling everything.

The audits.

The ......

The ......

The ......

The constant responsibility.

The mental load of trying to do everything correctly.

It all catches up eventually.

And what struck me today was thinking about children.

How children become emotional when they are overtired. How they cry easier. How they become quiet or frustrated because their little bodies and minds simply cannot carry anymore for that moment.

And I thought to myself: Maybe adults are not that different.

Maybe sometimes we are not angry. Not bitter. Not ungrateful.

Just exhausted.

And today, I also realize that I am filled with emotion.

Not one specific emotion. Just… full.

Full from carrying. Full from thinking. Full from trying to stay strong. Full from constantly processing life, people, work, responsibilities, faith, finances, expectations, and the quiet battles nobody really sees.

And when a person becomes emotionally full for too long, the tears sit very close to the surface.

Not because you are weak. But because your soul is overloaded.

And I think many people carry guilt when they are tired.

Especially when they love God.

Because we tell ourselves: “There are people without jobs.” “There are people struggling more.” “I should be grateful.” “I should pray more.” “I should give thanks.”

And yes, gratitude matters.

But today I am learning that exhaustion does not make me ungrateful.

It makes me human.

Sometimes you can love God deeply and still feel drained. Sometimes you can be thankful and still want to cry. Sometimes you can appreciate your job and still feel overwhelmed by it.

And maybe grace also exists for days like this.

Days where worship is quiet. Days where prayer is simply: “Lord, I am tired.”

Not every prayer has to sound powerful. Not every moment has to be spiritually strong.

Sometimes strength is simply continuing to show up while carrying weariness honestly.

And tonight, I think I need to allow myself rest without guilt.

Because constantly surviving without resting eventually empties the soul.

So today, I choose softness. I choose honesty. I choose rest. And I choose to believe that even exhausted hearts are still held by God. 

Confidence Was Never Meant to Be a Certain Size

Seasons of Alignment

I was sitting and thinking today about confidence.

Not the loud kind.

Not the kind people perform online.

But the quiet kind — the kind a woman feels when she walks into a room and does not spend the entire day trying to shrink herself.

I am a plus-size woman.

Sometimes I wear a size 42.

Sometimes a size 44.

My arms are thick. I have thighs.

A bit of a stomach.

And there are days when I look at myself and feel unsure.

Then I watch other women online — beautiful plus-size women doing their “get ready with me” videos, wearing outfits confidently, smiling, moving freely, existing so comfortably in their bodies.

And for a moment I think: “What is the difference between them and me?”

And honestly… I do not think the difference is always the body.

I think the difference is confidence.

Because confidence changes how a woman carries herself. It changes how she stands. How she smiles. How she wears the outfit. How she enters a room. How she allows herself to be seen.

And maybe for many women like me, confidence was never naturally taught to us.

Some of us grew up around women who were always criticizing themselves. Always covering up. Always apologizing for taking up space. Always comparing themselves. Always trying to lose weight before allowing themselves to feel beautiful.

So we learned that beauty was something postponed.

“I’ll feel beautiful when…”

“I’ll wear that when…”

“I’ll take pictures when…”

“I’ll be confident when…”

But life keeps moving while we wait to finally approve of ourselves.

And yes, there are women who lose weight and suddenly become more confident, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to become healthier or wanting to feel better in your clothes.

But sometimes, if we are honest, confidence can slowly turn into arrogance.

Sometimes people start feeling that because they lost weight, they are somehow more worthy, more beautiful, or above the next woman who is still curvy or plus-size.

And I do not believe beauty works like that.

Because I have seen plus-size women who absolutely glow. Women who know how to dress themselves beautifully. Women who wear the right clothes for their body shape. Women who carry themselves with grace, softness, elegance, and confidence.

And they look stunning.

Not because they are a certain size — but because they are comfortable within themselves.

I am slowly learning that confidence is not pretending you love every part of yourself every single day.

Confidence is allowing yourself to live anyway.

To still get dressed. To still show up. To still wear the outfit. To still take the picture. To still care for your body. To still see softness, beauty, femininity, and worth in yourself — even while growing.

And maybe that is part of the season I am entering now.

Not becoming a different woman. But becoming gentler with the woman I already am.

Learning that softness is not weakness. Learning that beauty is not reserved for one body type. Learning that confidence is not arrogance. Learning that I do not have to hide until I become “perfect.”

Because confidence was never meant to belong only to smaller women.

It belongs to women who decide: “I deserve to feel beautiful too.” 

Today feels a bit heavy

Today is not one of my strong days.

And I don’t even want to use that word…

despondent.

But that is exactly how I feel.

It’s not loud. It’s not dramatic. It’s just… heavy.

The kind of heaviness you can’t fully explain.

The kind where nothing is necessarily wrong in one big way…

but everything feels a little too much all at once.

And I sit here thinking:

After everything I’ve been doing…

after all the effort… after all the growth…

Why do I feel like this?

I’ve been showing up.

I’ve been working.

I’ve been pushing through.

I’ve been choosing better.

And yet today…

I feel tired in a way that rest doesn’t fix.

Not physically.

But emotionally.

It’s like something inside of me just paused.

And I don’t have the words for it.

Because I know how far I’ve come.

I know I’m not the same person I used to be. I know I’ve grown.

But today…

it just doesn’t feel like enough.

And maybe that’s the part no one really talks about.

That you can be doing well…

and still have days where you feel low.

That you can be growing…

and still feel a little lost in the moment.

And I think what makes it harder is this:

I don’t even want to complain.

Because I am grateful.

I do see God’s hand.

I do see the progress.

But I’m also human.

And today…

I feel it.

I feel the weight of trying.

I feel the weight of holding things together.

I feel the quiet question of,

“Is all of this going to come together the way I hope?”

And I don’t have the answer right now. But maybe…

I don’t need to.

Maybe today is not for figuring things out.

Maybe today is just for being honest.

For allowing myself to feel this

without judging it.

Without rushing past it.

Without pretending I’m okay when I’m not.

Because I’ve learned something:

Not every day is a breakthrough.

Some days are just…a pause.

And maybe that’s okay.

Maybe I don’t have to be strong today.

Maybe I don’t have to have it all together.

Maybe it’s enough to just say:

“Today is heavy…but I’m still here.”

I am allowed to feel this…

without letting it define me.

Even on the days I feel low,

I am still becoming.

Guard Your Words, Guard Your Heart

Enjoying some hibiscus tea while reflecting. 

There is something deeply destructive…yet often overlooked.

Gossip.

Not always loud.

Not always obvious.

But quietly… it divides, it wounds, and it destroys. How many relationships have ended

not because of truth…but because of what was heard?

Someone said something.

Someone repeated it. Someone believed it. And instead of going to the source, we go to everyone else.

We ask around. We listen.

We gather opinions.

But we don’t go to the one person

who could bring clarity.

And that is where the damage begins. Because when you don’t go directly to the person, you are not seeking truth…

You are feeding assumption.

And this is where it becomes even more serious:

Especially among children of God.

Because if we say we follow Christ,

then we are not only led by feelings…we are led by the Word.

And yet, so often…

Instead of consulting Scripture,

instead of seeking the Holy Spirit,

instead of doing what is right…

We believe what people say.

We accept it as truth.

We react based on it.

We make decisions based on it.

Without ever going to the person directly.

Even if what was said is true…

You still go.

You still speak.

You still give room for clarity.

You still allow truth to be established properly.

Because truth handled wrongly

can still produce damage.

The Word of God is clear.

In Matthew 18:15–17, we are instructed:

If your brother or sister sins against you, go to them directly. Not through people. Not through whispers. Not through assumptions. Directly.

Because God is not a God of confusion…

He is a God of order, truth, and restoration.

And yet, so many relationships are broken because this principle is ignored. Instead, narratives are created.

“Don’t speak to her.”

“She said this about me.”

“This is the kind of person she is.”

And just like that…

A person’s name is shaped

in rooms they are not in.

That is not correction. That is division.

And as Scripture reminds us in

Proverbs 16:28:

A gossip separates close friends

and stirs up conflict. But it doesn’t have to be this way.

So many relationships could be preserved…or at least ended with peace…if we chose obedience over assumption.

Because not every relationship is meant to last forever.

There are seasons.

Some people walk with you for a time…and then life moves.

But there is a difference

between a relationship fading naturally…and one being destroyed prematurely.

One is growth.

The other is damage.

And part of maturing — especially as children of God —

is learning how to handle both.

To speak with wisdom.

To approach with humility.

To listen with discernment.

And as we are reminded in

Psalm 141:3:

“Set a guard over my mouth, Lord;

keep watch over the door of my lips.”

Because words matter.

They can build…or they can break.

They can heal…or they can divide.

And I have learned this personally:

Not every conversation needs my presence.

Not every space deserves my voice.

Sometimes growth looks like walking away from environments where gossip lives.

Not out of pride…but out of wisdom.

Because I refuse to be influenced

by what destroys others.

Not everything you hear is truth.

But even when it is…

handle it the right way.

I choose obedience over assumption, truth over hearsay,

and peace over division. 

Entering My Soft Era

I think…

I am entering my soft era.

Not the kind of softness the world misunderstands as weakness —

but a quiet, grounded, intentional softness.

The kind that doesn’t fight for space…but naturally takes it.

Because when I look back,

I realize something that changed me:

I have never seen a relaxed woman.

Not in my family.

Not in my environment.

I have never seen a woman who rests without guilt.

Who says no without overexplaining.

Who loves without conditions.

Who exists… without constantly proving her worth.

I have seen strong women.

Hard-working women.

Sacrificing women.

But not soft ones.

And somewhere along the way,

I became that too.

Strong…

but tired.

Giving…

but empty.

Present…but not at peace.

And now… something is shifting.

I no longer want to live in survival mode. I want to live in softness.

A softness that allows me to breathe. A softness that allows me to choose myself.

A softness that allows me to say:

“No.”

Without guilt.

Without explanation.

Without shrinking.

And what’s so beautiful is this:

My business is growing with me.

LMB Naturals is not just about products.

It is about experience.

It is about care.

It is about intentional beauty.

The soaps.

The oils.

The textures.

The scents.

They are not just things I sell…

They are things I use.

They remind me to slow down.

To care for my body.

To honour myself.

To indulge… without guilt.

Because for so long,

women were taught that care is a luxury.

But I am learning: Care is necessary.

There is something powerful

about taking time with yourself.

Touching your own skin gently.

Looking at yourself with kindness.

Treating your body like it matters.

That is softness. And this softness is not just for me.

It is something I want to give to other women.

Permission…

To rest.

To say no.

To take up space.

To stop explaining themselves.

To stop shrinking.

To start caring — deeply and intentionally.

Because being a woman is not about constantly enduring.

It is also about becoming.

Becoming whole.

Becoming present.

Becoming soft… and still powerful.

I am no longer just surviving.

I am softening.

I am choosing.

I am becoming.

Softness is not weakness.

It is the quiet power of a woman who finally chooses herself.