Living with Loren

There’s a kind of peace that you don’t find in loud victories or public declarations. It’s the peace that sneaks up on you after you’ve done the quiet work—when your heart has done the heavy lifting of healing. It’s the kind of peace that doesn’t need to prove itself. The kind that feels like Jody’s mama in Baby Boy, standing in the backyard with a cigarette and a garden. That kind of peace.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on someone who once hurt me deeply. They disrespected me, harassed me, cursed me out. There was no closure. No apology. Just silence and space. And yet, when I recently saw them seemingly thriving—happy, healed, glowing—I didn’t feel bitterness. I smiled. I was genuinely happy for them. Smiling and rooting for them kind of happy.

That’s when I realized something: I’ve grown. Truly grown.

I had to forgive this person without ever talking to them. I had to accept that their behavior, while unkind and deeply inappropriate, came from somewhere real. Maybe even from pain that I unknowingly contributed to. It doesn’t excuse it—but it helps explain it. Because here’s the truth I’ve come to know:

We are all the villain in someone’s story at some point.

Growth is messy. Healing isn’t linear. And accountability and grace can exist at the same time.

Now, in my mid-thirties, I just want to evolve. I want to enjoy my daughter—my bright, beautiful Gwennie. I want to soak up the moments with my parents, my friends, my people. I want to create a community, a village, a sacred space where support flows freely and love is loud and consistent.

And yes, I want a husband. A partner who loves me down in every way—emotionally, spiritually, physically, unconditionally. A man who loves my daughter like his own, because he loves me completely.

Because I am, and always have been, a wife in spirit. A mother in soul. A teacher in heart. A lover and a fighter by design. The titles arrive when they do—but the calling has always been there.

So, here’s to growth. To radical peace. To unspoken forgiveness and unshakable self-worth. Here’s to the quiet strength of becoming everything you were meant to be.

And if you’re reading this—know that you can get here too. That kind of peace? It’s not reserved for the lucky. It’s available to the ready.

Shout out to growth.

Until Next Time,

Keep Living!

Love, Loren