In May 2023, I attended the Black Woman Leading LIVE Retreat + Conference and wrote about it in a four-part series afterward. Laura Knights, the founder of Black Woman Leading, opened the conference by asking us to set our intentions and write ourselves permission slips, reflecting on what we needed to give ourselves permission to do in order to be present. I sat with that question and set my intention: be open to receiving what is for me. My permission slip was to be open to meeting new people and adding to my community.

That permission slip mattered more than it might seem. I lead trainings and facilitate discussions regularly, in my work at LISC and through Mission ENSPIRE. Put me at the front of a room and I feel completely in my element. Put me in a social or networking setting with no agenda and no role to play, and I can be more of an introvert than people expect. Both of those things are true about me. The intention was not about becoming someone else for this event. It was about giving the quieter part of me permission to show up too.

And the intention did its work. In Dr. Chinasa Elue’s session on grief and career transitions, I heard grief applied to job transitions for the first time and it had me reflecting on my long tenure with my employer and what it will mean to eventually make a transition. I walked away with tools I knew would help me when that time comes. In Morgan Wider’s session, which I expected to be a lighthearted conversation about wardrobe, I learned that showing up with power and purpose starts with confidence and love for yourself, cultivated from within. An exercise on self-love and forgiveness landed with me in a way I did not expect, and I carried those words home with me. I do not think I would have received either session the same way if I had walked in simply trying to get through the agenda.

I have thought about that experience often, because I recognize a pattern in how so many leaders enter learning spaces. I see it in the women I support, and it shows up in rooms of every size.

We walk in still leading. We take notes for our teams. We listen for what we can pass along, what we can adapt for a staff meeting, what we already know. We register for every session because missing one feels like falling behind. By the end of the week, we have pages of notes and very little that actually reached us.

None of that comes from a bad place. It comes from being the person others count on. When you are used to being the one who gives, the one who holds the room, the one who brings it back to everyone else, it can feel unfamiliar to simply sit and receive. Being a participant asks you to set the role down for a while, and that can feel almost indulgent when you have so much you are responsible for.

Learning that only passes through you is not the same as learning that reaches you.

Receiving takes a kind of trust. It asks you to believe that you do not have to earn every good thing that comes to you, and that what is meant for you will find you if you leave room for it. I hold that as a matter of faith as much as a matter of practice. It is also why I think receiving is a choice you make before the first session begins, not something that just happens once you are in the room.

What does that choice look like in practice?

It starts with naming one thing you are there to receive. Not five things. One. Let it be what you actually need. Maybe you need language for something you have been feeling but cannot name. Maybe you need to hear from someone a few steps ahead of you. Maybe you need encouragement more than strategy right now. Whatever it is, write it down where you will see it before each session.

From there, let that intention choose your sessions instead of letting volume choose them for you. A full week of programming can quietly turn into one more thing to keep up with. You do not have to attend everything live to get what you came for. If recordings are available, let them hold the rest. They will still be there next week, and you will likely receive them better when you are not exhausted from trying to be everywhere at once.

Leave space between sessions, too. When one ends, resist the urge to rush straight into the next. Take a few minutes to sit with what stayed with you. Write down the one line you do not want to lose. Notice whether it connects to the intention you named at the start.

And leave room for one real connection. It might be a speaker whose words stayed with you long after the session ended. It might be someone in the chat who said exactly what you were thinking. Reaching out does not have to be a networking strategy. It can simply be your own version of the permission slip I gave myself years ago: an openness to adding to your community.

Next week, I enter a learning space in two roles at once. I am a Featured Speaker at the Top 100 Most Powerful Black Women Virtual Summit, and I am also an attendee. I plan to join some sessions live and watch others recorded, alongside the women who will be watching mine.

I will be honest with you. I have not named my intention for this summit yet. I am writing this post partly to find it. Being a speaker makes it easy to treat the whole week as work, to see every session through the lens of preparation and performance. What I do know is that I want to practice what I have written here. I want to walk into that week as a participant, too, open to receiving what is for me.

The Top 100 Most Powerful Black Women Virtual Summit runs October 19 through 23. My session, Own What You’re Building: The Work That Holds It Up, goes live Monday, October 19 at 8am Eastern. You can find my session and the full speaker lineup here. I would love for you to join me, and I hope you will come to the other sessions with an intention of your own.

Whether it is this summit, a conference on your calendar, or a single workshop you have been meaning to attend, the invitation is the same. Decide what you are there to receive before you walk in.

What are you going into your next learning space ready to receive?

So I did not post in December.
And I did not post in January either.

Instead, I chose to pause. And honestly, it was one of the most grounding decisions I have made in a long time.

In my coaching training, we spend significant time on a skill called active listening, specifically what is often referred to as Level 2 listening. It is the kind of listening where you are fully present with the person in front of you, not mentally preparing your response or thinking about what is next on your calendar. I teach this skill. I coach others on it. And still, during high pressure seasons, I catch myself slipping into distracted presence. That is why I close Teams during one on one meetings. It is a small boundary, but it matters. If notifications are popping up or my task list is visible, I am not fully there. I may look engaged, but my attention is divided.

December and January reminded me that sometimes we need to close more than just applications on our screens. Sometimes we need to close the expectation that we must always be producing, posting, or proving something in order to be valuable.

What the Pause Taught Me

When I gave myself permission to step back from writing, something unexpected happened. Instead of feeling behind, I felt grounded. Instead of feeling guilty, I felt clear. I rested without feeling like I had to earn that rest through productivity. What surprised me most was this. The pause did not disconnect me from my purpose. It deepened it. By allowing myself space, my reflections became clearer and more honest. I was reminded that sometimes the most courageous thing we can do is trust that our work will still be there when we are ready, and that our commitment is not measured by constant output.

That pause extended into January, intentionally. Instead of rushing into the new year with plans and pressure, I attended the Elevate and Empower Retreat, a guided experience created for clarity, alignment, and intentional momentum. What I needed most was not another strategy. It was space.

Space to slow down enough to see what had been taking shape beneath the surface. Space to listen for how I wanted to show up, how I wanted to share my work, and how to protect my energy while doing it. And in that quiet, I realized something simple but powerful. I do not need to become someone new to move forward. I need to lead from who I already am, with consistency and intention. During the retreat, the focus was not urgency or reinvention. It was integration. I spent time bringing together parts of myself that I had unconsciously kept separate, my professional leadership and my entrepreneurial work. What became clear is that the next season of growth is not about pushing harder. It is about structure, focus and visible action that honors both my values and my capacity.

Ironically, this experience echoed something I created last year, a personal retreat guide meant to help others pause, reflect, and reconnect with themselves without needing perfect conditions. Sitting in a retreat space centered on my own business reminded me that the practices we offer others are often the very ones we are invited to return to ourselves.

I left January not with dramatic answers, but with clarity, alignment, and a renewed commitment to lead and share my work in ways that honor my energy, my values, and the season I am in.

Looking Back at 2025

As the pause created space, I found myself reflecting on the year that had passed. Not through a list of accomplishments or goals met, but through a deeper awareness of who I am becoming. Every year has its own rhythm. Some years are about building. Others are about releasing. Some are defined by visible milestones. Others by quieter internal shifts.

For me, 2025 was a year of finding my voice. Not the voice I use when facilitating or coaching, but my voice as a speaker and leader representing my own brand, and as someone willing to be seen. At the beginning of the year, I would not have used the word speaker to describe myself. Even though I facilitated. Even though I trained. Even though I stood in front of rooms leading conversations. I had not fully claimed it.

Today, I can say it clearly. I am a speaker.

That shift did not happen all at once. It happened through consistent, imperfect action. Month after month of showing up, speaking, and using my voice even when it felt uncomfortable. One way I stretched myself was volunteering to go first. On calls. In conversations. In spaces where it would have been easier to stay quiet. Going first did not always feel brave. Sometimes it felt exposed. But with each moment of practice, my confidence followed.

Courage came first. Confidence followed through repetition.

What deepened in 2025 is carrying forward into this year as I step into new speaking opportunities in February during MEE Month and join the Women Thrive Summit in March.

Leadership Growth and Responsibility

2025 also brought new leadership challenges in my role at LISC. I fully stepped into my position where I manage people leaders. I do not directly own the work, but I am accountable for outcomes. That responsibility carries weight. That weight is real, and some days it’s nerve-wracking. Some days, I wondered if I was guiding my team well enough. Other days, I surprised myself with the strength I didn’t know I had. Leadership has a way of showing you both your doubts and your growth at the same time.

What I learned is this: you don’t always feel ready. You second-guess. You compare. You wonder if you’re really walking in your purpose. But clarity doesn’t come first it comes from taking action.

This became especially clear in September when I participated in the Financial Opportunity Center® (FOC) 20th Anniversary National Convening here in Chicago. As I shared in Honoring Legacy, Living Purpose, that experience was both humbling and affirming. Leading a coaching practicum for twenty four participants, serving on the opening plenary panel, and receiving recognition from partners I deeply respect, including an unexpected standing ovation and a welded plaque from Jane Addams Resource Corporation, reminded me that the seeds we plant quietly year after year do take root.

That moment of being seen and acknowledged by my community taught me something important: we often can’t see our own impact until others reflect it back to us. And sometimes our greatest growth happens not in the spotlight moments, but in the decades of consistent showing up that come before them.

The Entrepreneurial Middle

If I am honest, 2025 was also challenging in my entrepreneurial journey. I have been building Mission ENSPIRE for four years. In 2025 progress felt slower than expected. There were moments when the question shifted from can I do this to can I keep doing this.

This is the part we do not talk about enough. The space between starting and thriving. Between momentum and mastery. Early courage is fueled by excitement. Sustained courage is fueled by discipline and trust. 2025 reminded me that courage is not only about starting. It is about staying. About continuing to show up even when results lag behind effort.

Releasing Recommitting and Redesigning

Now in February of 2026, I am intentional about what I carry forward. I am releasing the pressure to have everything figured out by now. Entrepreneurship does not follow a neat timeline. It follows a process. I am recommitting to using my voice consistently and to this space, Flourishing Fiercely, even when engagement feels quiet. Because I know these words reach the people who need them. I am redesigning my definition of success. In 2026, success includes consistency, courage, relationships and unseen impact. It includes honoring both my leadership role and my entrepreneurial calling as complementary expressions of the same purpose.

My 2026 Intention Sustainable Visibility

My intention for 2026 is sustainable visibility. Not visibility driven by urgency. Not visibility that leads to exhaustion.

Sustainable visibility means showing up in ways that align with my values and capacity. It means trusting that slow, intentional presence is enough. It means believing that I can be seen and whole at the same time. Publishing this post in February feels aligned with that intention. This is not about catching up. It is about beginning again with clarity.

So, here is my question for you. What are you releasing, recommitting to, or redesigning as you move through this year?

Here is to beginning again.
Here is to sustainable visibility.
And here is to continuing to flourish fiercely together.