SophieJ Life Experiences

Some days, I just need a 30-minute nap. On other days, I dream of $ 100,000, an all-expenses-paid vacation to the Maldives, and a chauffeur. It’s all about balance.

Today is the last Sunday of September 2025, and I can’t help but laugh at how much can change in a single year. I also struggle to fully grasp how much I’ve had to grow, let go, and adapt.

A year ago, in September 2024, I was leaving behind my role as a humanitarian with an international nonprofit. This decision weighed heavily on my heart. I chose to fully invest myself in my career as a therapist in a community mental health setting. I was filled with hope as I watched election debates, encouraged friends and family to vote, and advocated for awareness around ballots and policies.

At that time, I was working full-time primarily with Medicaid recipients, tracking my hours, and trying to recover from three exhausting years of being both a full-time graduate student and a full-time worker. My uncle was still alive, leaving me loving voicemails that said, “I love you, Miss Sophie. See you Sunday.” My friends and I daydreamed about a spring vacation in Europe, celebrating our lives as independent women with stable jobs and no children. That life feels foreign now.

Fast forward one year, and the landscape is starkly different. More than 300,000 Black women have lost their jobs due to mass layoffs, the dismantling of DEI initiatives, and widespread budget cuts. I lost my salaried position and had to pivot to private practice.
My beloved uncle is gone, and I still haven’t found the courage to listen to his old voicemails. The nonprofit where I once proudly worked has closed its doors, leaving thousands of Medicaid clients without access to care. Former colleagues and friends have been laid off as cuts ripple through the sector. My family has been facing serious health scares! Shout out to my dad and sister for their resilience.

And still…. I am here. While I’m learning not to lose hope, I lean on my faith. Nothing ever surprises God; only me. I find joy in holding my brand-new goddaughter, born this September. I carry my uncle’s words with me, letting his love echo in my heart. I’ve been consistent with my gym journey (even considering adding a fourth day!). I’m re-centering myself and budgeting carefully while the economy crumbles around us.

I refuse to panic. I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to crawl under the sheets and disappear.

To You, Reading This…. You may also be trying to make sense of life this September 2025. Perhaps you’re grieving, adapting, or feeling exhausted. Please remember: you are resilient. You have mastered skills you didn’t even know you were practicing. You have more people in your corner than you realize.

It’s OK to cry. It’s OK to freak out. But it’s also OK to keep going, because you can. Just because.

P.S.: My dear friend Honchyse is currently battling cancer. Please consider showing up for this beautiful soul in any way you can: https://www.gofundme.com/f/honchyses-battle-for-life