SophieJ Life Experiences

Wow… what a week. What a month. What a year. And it’s only day 18. I swear we had a whole conversation with 2026 before it even got here, politely asking it to be gentle with us. Clearly, it did not get the memo.

So, what is actually going on, y’all? There is so much fear and uncertainty in the air right now, and honestly, for good reason. No matter what community you belong to, the anxiety feels palpable. Groceries are expensive. Healthcare feels increasingly out of reach. Car insurance is somehow competing with rent. Every time I open another bill, I find myself asking, “How are we actually supposed to survive?”

Now, I trust that the Lord will provide. He always has. But whew… holy moly.

As if everyday life wasn’t already overwhelming, Temporary Protected Status (TPS) for many members of the Haitian community is scheduled to end on February 3rd, with no clear path forward. People are terrified. Families are living with unimaginable uncertainty, wondering what comes next.

As a therapist, I spend a lot of time helping people regulate their nervous systems, but how do you regulate when the threat isn’t imagined but real? The chronic stress alone is enough to wreak havoc on the body. Elevated cortisol levels, cardiovascular risks, anxiety, depression, insomnia… and that’s before we even begin to discuss the trauma of living in constant uncertainty.

Honestly, I don’t always know what to say. Sometimes, I worry about saying the wrong thing because there simply aren’t words that can make this kind of pain disappear. There is so much grief, anger, and helplessness wrapped up in these moments that it makes my own struggles feel incredibly small. Not because they aren’t real, but because everyone seems to be carrying something impossibly heavy right now.

So here I am, trying to survive another harsh winter on coping skills, prayer, and sheer determination. I’m trying to care for my family, my local community, my home country, and somehow still leave enough room to care for myself. It’s a lot.

But somewhere in the middle of all of this, I’ve decided that I’m going to seek joy anyway. Not because everything is okay. Not because I’m pretending the world isn’t on fire. My peace was never supposed to come from circumstances; it comes from the Lord. Scripture calls us to rejoice not because life is easy, but because God remains faithful even when life isn’t.

So whatever my “best” looks like today, that’s what I’m giving. Some days, my best is being productive. Other days, my best is simply getting out of bed, answering a few emails, drinking enough water, and reminding myself that tomorrow is another opportunity to try again. Either way, it counts. I’m not chasing extraordinary moments right now; I’m just collecting little pieces of joy wherever I can find them. Healthy joy, of course. My insurance isn’t strong enough to cover anything too outrageous.

Speaking of joy… Nene Leakes is back on Bravo. A brand-new day has dawned! That announcement alone lifted my spirits. That, and those completely ridiculous AI-generated vegetable videos on TikTok, are telling me exactly how and when to eat produce. Why are they so convincing? Why do I suddenly believe carrots have a preferred bedtime? Honestly, they’re carrying me through this season. At this point, I’ll take whatever serotonin I can get.

Somewhere along the way, I’ve apparently started adopting a few Chinese wellness habits thanks to the internet. My feet stay warm now. I’m avoiding ice-cold drinks first thing in the morning. I’m eating warm salads in the winter and have even considered soup for breakfast… which I cannot do because I’m still fasting, as I mentioned in my last post. Growth.

Am I easily influenced? At this point, probably. But honestly? We’re all on the same For You Page anyway. The algorithm knows us better than some of our friends do.

So if you need me, I’ll be over here protecting my peace, wearing warm socks, laughing at TikTok vegetables, praying for Haiti, praying for all of us, and looking for joy wherever I can find it. Because sometimes joy isn’t found after the storm. Sometimes it’s the thing that helps us survive it.