Sessi. Dancing Corners

Tag: becomingmore

  • What Cherry Blossoms Taught Me About Life

    What Cherry Blossoms Taught Me About Life

    I’ve loved cherry blossoms for as long as I can remember but I didn’t realize why until life got hard.

    Since I was 18, and even into my mid 20s, I’ve always had a thing for cherry blossoms.

    To me, they represent beauty, new beginnings, and the importance of living in the present moment. Their bloom is short and sweet, and maybe that’s what makes them so special. They remind me that life is fleeting, and that there’s something sacred about appreciating what’s in front of you while it’s here.

    Even though I don’t always get to see them in person as much as I’d like, when I do whether I’m on a run, out for a walk, or just passing by I really take them in.

    Because before you know it, they’re gone.

    And honestly? I think that’s part of why I love them so much.

    There’s something about seeing cherry blossoms when life feels heavy that just does something to you. When you’re spiraling, doubting yourself, or feeling like you’re not enough… and then you look up and see those soft pink blooms, it feels like a little glimpse of hope staring back at you.

    Like life is quietly saying:

    You’re going to be okay.

    There was a point in my life where I really needed that reminder.

    I was spiraling.

    I wasn’t feeling good enough.

    I felt like no one was willing to take a chance on me.

    And on top of that, life just kept piling on.

    I was grinding through so much and carrying it quietly because I didn’t want to burden my family or friends. So instead, I found little ways to pour back into myself. I went to New York. I took dance classes. I walked through parks. I found small moments that made me feel grounded again.

    And oh boy… did it work.

    It gave me confidence.

    A new perspective.

    A little spark in me that I thought I had lost.

    Just like cherry blossoms symbolize, I had to shed a little of myself to come back to life. Not lose who I was just let go of what was weighing me down so I could find my way back to me.

    Now, whenever I see cherry blossoms, I don’t just see something beautiful.

    I see hope.

    I see growth.

    I see perspective.

    I see a reminder that life can still surprise you in soft ways.

    And every single year, they bring me back to something I always say to myself and to anyone I end up talking to about life:

    Every year is an upgrade.

    Because you are not the same person you were last year.

    You are who you are in this moment.

    And that version of you matters too.

    So appreciate the moment.

    Take it in.

    Let yourself bloom while you’re here.

    Just like the cherry blossoms

  • Your Bills Are Paid Go Live Your Life

    Your Bills Are Paid Go Live Your Life

    When I opened TikTok first thing in the morning, a video stopped me.

    This guy was talking about how people start shaming others for going out, for what they wear, for what they buy… once they hit a certain age. Then he said something so simple but so real:

    Who cares?

    Your bills are paid.

    You have a job, a home, a car.

    Go do what you want. Life is already stressful enough why wouldn’t you enjoy what it has to offer?

    That hit me.

    I used to think growing up meant becoming quieter.

    Now I know it just means becoming more myself.

    Because people do judge you as you get older. They expect you to shrink, to quiet down, to become… predictable. But at the same time, a lot of people aren’t even doing the emotional work on themselves. And you can tell. You can always tell the difference between the people who are healing, growing, and learning themselves and the ones who aren’t.

    And me? I’m choosing to live.

    On March 14, I went into New York City to see Lithe in concert with my forever friend. Before anything, I did my homework I listened to his music, got familiar with his vibe. Because if my friends, my family, or even my future man loves something… I’m going to meet them there. If they like it, I love it too.

    Before heading to her apartment in Brooklyn, I stopped at TacoBee’s Mexican Grill to grab us food. I got a steak burrito and chicken birria tacos because priorities. Then it was just me, a bag full of food, and the city around me.

    When I got there, we split everything, started chatting, laughing, and getting ready for the night. And let me just say the food? So good.

    We got dressed with music playing in the background, putting together outfits inspired by Lithe’s album Euphoria greens and blacks, matching the energy.

    The venue was Elsewhere in Brooklyn intimate, packed, and alive. Disco balls hung from the ceiling, lights flashing everywhere blue, red, strobes, smoke it felt like stepping into a whole different world. My forever friend knew every word. She was dancing, singing, living in it. And me? Right there with her.

    After the show, we went out for a bit longer, just soaking in the night. No rush. No pressure. Just living.

    The next day, we slowed it down and explored. We went to find the giant chrome evil eye sculpture at Flatiron Plaza by Charlotte Colbert. It was 10 feet tall, reflecting everything around it. Blue and brown eyes, layered behind each other. Honestly? Beautiful. I love art in all forms whether it’s in a museum or just out in the street.

    Then we walked into the largest Barnes & Noble I’ve ever seen literal heaven. After that, we grabbed sandwiches (the best ones, obviously), and just enjoyed the day before I headed back home to New Jersey.

    Another weekend. Another memory. Probably another page in my junk journal.

    And the funny thing is… that TikTok was right.

    Go out.

    Wear what you want.

    Do what makes you happy.

    Your bills are paid.

    So go enjoy your life.

  • Miguel’s Chaos Tour

    Miguel’s Chaos Tour

    Before Miguel sang “Simple Things,” he paused and spoke about why he writes.

    He talked about wanting to be seen. Wanting to be heard. Wanting the simple things something he’s wanted since he was a little boy.

    And standing there at Radio City Music Hall, I realized that’s why I write too.

    But let me rewind.

    The first time I saw Miguel was during his Wildheart Tour on August 2, 2015. I went with my forever friend Brittany, and we turned it into a whole staycation moment. We stayed at my uncle’s apartment, rode bikes across the Brooklyn Bridge, and explored New York in a way that definitely cost less than it does now.

    Then on March 24, 2018, I went to his War & Leisure Tour with my cousins. We stayed at the apartment again and had another chill, fun New York weekend. Both nights at Terminal 5 became core memories for me. It was just a short walk from my uncle’s place at the time, which made it feel even more magical.

    Fast forward to February 24, 2026 Miguel’s Chaos Tour at Radio City Music Hall.

    Different venue. Same feeling.

    He performed a mix of old and new music. I’ve noticed lately that at concerts, many people don’t really know the newer songs. My forever friend who I went with this time too put it in perspective for me: some people just want the nostalgia. The hits. The familiar.

    But me? I love singing the new songs just as loudly. I want the artist to feel that the evolution matters. That the growth is being received. That the hard work didn’t go unnoticed.

    Miguel sang songs like “The Thrill,” “RIP,” “Sure Thing,” and more. And he can sing sing. The mic stays on. The playback drops. It’s him and the band. No hiding. Just artistry.

    But it was that speech before “Simple Things” that really got me.

    On the internet, everything can start to sound the same polished, filtered, almost copy-and-paste. Sometimes it feels like originality gets drowned out by performance.

    His words didn’t feel like performance.

    They felt human.

    And I realized that’s my “why” too. I blog to be seen. I write to be heard. Not to be perfect. Not to be viral. Just to be real.

    That night wasn’t just about the music. It was about remembering why expression matters in the first place.

    Miguel has carved out his own lane in R&B one that blends vulnerability, sensuality, and soul in a way that feels timeless.

    He’s still on tour. And if you ever get the chance to see him live, go.

    Not just for the hits.

    Not just for the nostalgia.

    But for the reminder that the simple things being seen, being heard are sometimes the most powerful of all.

    This city keeps holding my memories in the most unexpected ways.

  • 35 and Becoming

    35 and Becoming

    I’ve lived 35 years, and I’m still becoming.

    Not in a rushing, fixing, dramatic kind of way but in a quiet, rooted way.

    A way that stays.

    I don’t need to be more.

    I just need to keep becoming more of myself.

    This birthday doesn’t feel like a reset.

    It feels like a return.

    A return to the parts of me I abandoned when I thought I had to be perfect to be loved.

    A return to softness after years of survival.

    A return to beauty not the curated kind, but the real kind.

    The unmade-beds kind. Morning coffee. Laughing somewhere with friends.

    I don’t have all the answers, but here’s what I do know at 35:

    Life is messy.

    You’ll cry while working out at the gym with your friend or at the bar.

    You’ll laugh in the kitchen during deep conversations on nights you stay in.

    You’ll forget your worth, then remember it like a firework.

    You’ll lose people who swore they’d never leave only to realize you were doing all the heavy lifting. And yes… it’ll happen more than once.

    But then, you’ll find peace in unexpected places.

    New York.

    A dance class.

    South Carolina while visiting a friend.

    Mexico.

    Mexico City while visiting your uncle.

    Italy

    Spain

    And somewhere along the way, the glow-up happens but it’s internal.

    It shows up in how you respond.

    How you pause before reacting.

    How you protect your peace even when it would be easier to self-destruct.

    It shows up after two years of therapy.

    After learning how to communicate better.

    After choosing healthier bonds with friends, family, and whoever is brave enough to take a real risk on you.

    Now, I find joy in the small things.

    Coffee runs.

    Slow mornings.

    Loud dinners.

    Spontaneous photoshoots.

    Walking aimlessly through New York because I don’t want to go home just yet.

    I’ve also learned this:

    You can love your life and still long for more.

    You can be grateful and still hungry.

    You can be more than one thing at once.

    You don’t have to follow anyone else’s timeline only your own.

    If it feels right to me, that’s what matters.

    I met the most down-to-earth dancers, entertainers, and creatives in New York during my mid and late twenties. It felt community based. Real. Appreciated. And I’m grateful I experienced that because now, I know what genuine connection looks like.

    Thirty five isn’t the finish line.

    It’s the soft middle.

    It’s where I stop performing and start embodying.

    Where I hustle less for love and trust it more.

    Where I know who I am just a little less shy, and a lot more hopeful.

    Here’s to not apologizing for who I’ve become.

    To loving louder.

    Resting deeper.

    Laughing easier.

    Letting things unfold naturally.

    I am so ready for you, 35.