Sessi. Dancing Corners

Tag: emotionaljourney

  • 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.

  • Love Is Where You Pour It.

    Some people say Valentine’s Day is just a Hallmark holiday. Others go all out for their significant other. And single people? We usually fall somewhere between pouring back into ourselves or spending time with friends. Or honestly treating it like any other day. And all of that is valid.

    In my mid 20s, I started pouring into myself. I’d write love letters to myself, pour some champagne, run a bubble bath, and even do a little DIY photoshoot to end my self love day. It sounds simple, but it made me feel really good about myself not just that day, but for weeks after.

    In my early 30s, Valentine’s Day started to look different. I leaned into Galentine’s Day with my friends and coworkers drinks flowing, games playing, matching PJs, lots of laughing, and of course pictures at the end. And really good food. I can’t forget the food.

    That phase taught me the importance of community watering friendships, loving your people, and appreciating them while you have them. Life is too short not to.

    I’ve never actually done Valentine’s Day with a man yet. And honestly? That’s because I know myself. When I love, I love fully. I would make sure he felt appreciated, seen, and deeply loved. In the past, I’ve invested in men physically, emotionally, and spiritually that’s just how I show up in this thing called life. I’m extremely picky about who I let into my world and I should be. We get one life. One chance to do it right, to grow, to experience the good, the bad, and the ugly with someone who’s worth it.

    What I’m really saying is this:

    You can pour into yourself.

    You can spend the day with friends.

    You can pretend the holiday doesn’t exist.

    It’s your life.

    You get to decide how you love yourself, your people, and one day, maybe a partner too. Spread love where it feels real. Pour into what pours back into you.

    Happy Love Day. 💘

  • 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.