Sessi Dancing Corners

Tag: personal growth

  • September, Somewhere Between Becoming and Being

    September, Somewhere Between Becoming and Being

    Coffee

    September has always felt like an in-between month to me. Summer hasn’t completely let go, fall hasn’t fully settled in, and somehow I find myself somewhere in the middle too. This year, though, I’m realizing that maybe being in between isn’t something I need to rush through.

    I spend so much time thinking about what’s next the next goal, the next adventure, the next version of myself that sometimes I forget to look around at the life I’m already living. And September has quietly reminded me to do exactly that.

    There are still things I’m figuring out. Dreams I’m working toward. Questions I don’t have answers to yet. But there are also things worth celebrating right now: old chapters finally closing, new memories being made, mornings spent running, coffee in hand, words finding their way onto this blog, and ordinary little moments that somehow feel different when I actually stop long enough to notice them.

    Maybe becoming isn’t about constantly trying to get somewhere else. Maybe there’s something beautiful about learning to be here, too.

    One of the biggest moments this September didn’t come with confetti or some huge celebration. It came with a final payment.

    After years of Sallie Mae being a part of my life, I can finally say that chapter is closed. My journey didn’t end with the degree I once imagined, but I still finished something and there’s a certain kind of freedom in realizing that an ending doesn’t have to look the way you pictured it to still mean something.

    Closing that chapter made me think about how much of life happens quietly. We wait for the big moments to tell us we’re moving forward, but lately I’ve been noticing the smaller ones too.

    A morning run that clears my head. A coffee that makes an ordinary day feel a little cozier. Sitting down to write something I’m proud of. Going somewhere new simply because I wanted to. None of these moments are life-changing on their own, but together, they’ve started to feel like a life I genuinely enjoy living.

    Writing has become one of those little anchors for me. Sessidancingcorners started as a place to collect pieces of my life, but somewhere along the way, it became a way for me to actually notice my life.

    The nights out, the city views, the coffee runs, the random thoughts that turn into paragraphs I’ve learned that a life doesn’t have to be extraordinary every day to be worth writing about.

    There are still parts of my life that feel unfinished. Things I want but don’t have yet, questions I wish came with clearer answers, and dreams I’m still figuring out how to reach.

    I used to think I had to solve all of those things before I could feel settled, like happiness was waiting for me somewhere on the other side of finally having everything figured out. September has reminded me that maybe I don’t need all the answers right now.

    I can want more for my life while still loving the life I have. I can leave space for what might come next without missing what’s happening right in front of me.

    Maybe that’s why September feels a little different this year. It exists somewhere between two seasons still holding onto pieces of summer while slowly making room for fall.

    And maybe I’m doing the same.

    I’m still becoming. I’m still dreaming, changing my mind, making plans, letting some things go and hoping for others. But I’m also learning how to simply be. To enjoy the coffee while it’s still cold, take the long way home when the view is worth it, celebrate the chapters I’ve managed to close, and appreciate the ones I’m still writing.

    I don’t know exactly what the next chapter looks like yet.

    For once, I don’t think I need to.

    September reminded me that there is a whole life happening between where I’ve been and where I’m going and I don’t want to rush past it.

  • Somewhere Between the Rooftops and the City

    Somewhere Between the Rooftops and the City

    Rooftop at hotel indigo

    There’s something about seeing New York from a rooftop that makes everything feel a little different.

    Down below, the city is doing what it always doe moving too fast, honking too loudly, rushing somewhere important. But up here, everything softens. The noise becomes a hum. The buildings stretch out in every direction, and for a second, I’m not thinking about where I need to be next.

    I’m just here.

    Somewhere between the rooftops and the city, between the life happening below me and the one I’m still figuring out, I realized how much I’ve changed.

    I used to think becoming meant having some perfectly mapped-out version of what life was supposed to look like. Now, I think becoming looks a lot more like this: standing above a city I’ve loved through so many versions of myself, letting the wind mess up my hair, looking out at everything still waiting for me, and realizing I don’t need to know exactly where I’m going to know that I’m moving forward.

    And maybe that’s exactly what I needed from this weekend. Not answers. Not some huge revelation. Just a change of scenery and a few days to enjoy the city from a different point of view.

    So, I packed my bags and headed to New York for a weekend that somehow included a little bit of everything: rooftop views, getting ready with my forever friend while singing and dancing between makeup steps, wandering around the Lower East Side, and checking out a rage room that we thought had an opening.

    It didn’t.

    But somehow that worked out just fine, because instead we ended up having some delicious sushi.

    One minute we were singing, dancing, and getting dressed, turning the room into our own little mini concert. Honestly, that might have been one of my favorite parts of the night. My forever friend and I also had our own mini photoshoot, taking turns pretending to be each other’s photographer. And every time I look back at those pictures, I’m reminded of how much fun can exist in the smallest moments.

    Mini photoshoot

    Then the real fun started.

    My forever friend’s crew came through, my cousin Hannah showed up, and from there, it was nothing but fun. There was no perfectly planned itinerary or pressure for the night to become something extraordinary. We were simply together, laughing and enjoying the city.

    And somewhere in the middle of all of it, I realized that maybe that was the point.

    Sunday slowed everything down in the best way. After all the singing, dancing, getting ready, and going out the night before, we spent part of the day at the rooftop pool. Sitting above the city, taking in the skyline and just enjoying the moment felt like the perfect way to end the weekend. There was nowhere to rush to and nothing I needed to figure out. I could just be there, soaking it all in.

    On the ride back to New Jersey, I found myself thinking about the weekend differently. I thought about my forever friend, my cousin Hannah, and the people who showed up simply because they wanted to be there.

    It made me appreciate everything a little more.

    Sometimes it’s easy to look at our lives and focus on what we think is missing the things we haven’t accomplished yet, the relationships we don’t have, the plans that haven’t worked out, or the version of life we thought we would have by now.

    But maybe having everything was never the point.

    Maybe we just need the people who show up. The people who turn getting ready into a concert, take a hundred pictures until we get the one, change plans when the original ones fall through, and make an ordinary weekend feel like something worth remembering.

    I went to New York thinking I needed a change of scenery.

    Instead, somewhere between the rooftops and the city, I was reminded to appreciate the life that is already happening around me.

  • August Feels Like a Deep Breath

    August Feels Like a Deep Breath

    Some months arrive with fireworks.

    Some months ask us to keep running.

    Others invite us to slow down long enough to notice the life we’re already living.

    That’s what August feels like.

    A deep breath.

    July was full in all the best ways. Time with family, girls’ nights out, afternoon runs, little adventures, and coffee dates with myself reminded me that life doesn’t always have to be extraordinary to be meaningful.

    Now August is here, and instead of rushing toward fall, I’m giving myself permission to simply enjoy where I am.

    I think that’s what this month is teaching me.

    To slow down.

    To breathe a little deeper.

    To appreciate the ordinary moments that often become the ones we remember the most.

    One of my favorite parts of the weekend is slowing down enough to make my iced coffee exactly how I like it. During the workweek, mornings move too fast, so I save this little ritual for Saturdays and Sundays. I froth my favorite creamer with flavored syrups, make myself breakfast, and spend a little time writing in my gratitude journal or working on a craft before the day really begins.

    Homemade coffee

    Maybe that’s why I’ve been loving my weekends so much lately. Before errands, plans, or responsibilities start pulling me in different directions, I get a little pocket of peace that’s completely mine. I’ve learned not to take those moments for granted.

    Then there are the days when work is…well…work.

    Whenever I have a stressful day and can feel my body slipping into fight-or-flight mode the tingling sensations, the tension, all of it I know exactly what I need.

    If it’s not unbearably hot outside, I lace up my running shoes, turn my music all the way up, and head out for a run.

    Sometimes I even find myself tearing up while I’m running.

    Have you ever read The Body Keeps the Score? My body definitely keeps score. Running has become one of the ways I let all that stress leave my body. Every mile reminds me that movement isn’t just good for my health it’s also how I find my way back to myself.

    The slower weekends have been just as meaningful.

    On the Saturdays I don’t have to work, I look forward to sleeping in with Chloe. Even though she somehow manages to take over the bed, stretch across my legs, or steal my pillow, I wouldn’t trade those mornings for anything. They’re peaceful in the sweetest way, and they remind me that happiness is often found in the simplest moments.

    This summer also reminded me how incredibly grateful I am for the people in my life.

    One weekend, my forever friend and I spent the day exploring Hoboken before heading to Jersey City to watch the soccer final together. Another weekend, we went axe throwing, grabbed dinner, and laughed until our stomachs hurt. Those outings weren’t extravagant, but they became memories I’ll carry with me for a long time.

    Then there was one of my favorite moments of the summer.

    My family from Puerto Rico came to New Jersey for a brunch my mom hosted. The house was filled with laughter, conversations, delicious food, and the kind of jokes that only family understands. Watching everyone catch up, encourage one another, and simply enjoy being together reminded me how lucky I am to have them.

    For once, nobody seemed to be in a rush.

    Everyone was simply present.

    And honestly, I loved that.

    Looking back, I’ve realized this summer wasn’t about checking destinations off a list.

    It was about collecting moments.

    The slow weekend mornings with coffee.

    The evening runs that helped me reset.

    The Saturdays spent cuddling Chloe.

    The laughter around the brunch table.

    The afternoons exploring with friends.

    The little routines that quietly became the heartbeat of my summer.

    I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting lately, and I don’t want to rush into fall just because the calendar says it’s next.

    I want to enjoy August for exactly what it is.

    A month to pause.

    A month to breathe.

    A month to notice everything that’s already beautiful before chasing what’s next.

    Because sometimes life doesn’t ask us to do more.

    Sometimes it simply asks us to be present.

    To look around and realize that a meaningful life isn’t built only through milestones or big adventures.

    It’s built through ordinary Saturdays.

    Shared meals.

    Morning coffee.

    Evening runs.

    The people who make us laugh.

    The family who reminds us where we come from.

    The little moments that become our favorite memories before we even realize they’re happening.

    And maybe…

    that’s what a deep breath feels like.

  • What July Taught Me: Finding Growth in the Little Things

    What July Taught Me: Finding Growth in the Little Things

    July didn’t change my life overnight.

    It changed the way I looked at it.

    Somewhere between long summer evenings, family gatherings, city adventures, and quiet mornings, I realized that growth doesn’t always arrive with fireworks. Sometimes, it quietly shows up in the moments you almost overlook.

    The Fourth of July has always been a big event for my family, and it’s something I look forward to every summer. This year reminded me not to take those moments for granted. Making memories, laughing together, and simply being present meant more to me than I expected. Sometimes we spend so much time looking ahead that we forget how special it is to enjoy the people right in front of us.

    Then there were the adventures with my forever friend. Whether we were spending a girls’ night out in New Jersey or taking the train into the city, there was never a dull moment. Every outing reminded me that saying yes to experiences creates memories you’ll smile about long after the night is over.

    At the same time, I never forgot about myself.

    The quiet mornings became just as meaningful as the busy days. Some mornings it was just a cup of coffee, my journal, and the quiet before the world woke up. Other days it was sitting outside, crafting, or simply taking a deep breath before work. Those moments reminded me that slowing down isn’t wasting time it’s how I reconnect with myself.

    One of the biggest lessons I’ve carried from therapy is that everything is connected. The way I care for myself affects every part of my life. When anxiety creeps in or I find myself feeling overwhelmed, I’ve learned that I don’t have to fight those feelings. I can acknowledge them, let them pass, reflect on them, and remind myself that tomorrow is another opportunity to do a little better.

    Looking back, this summer has been really good for my soul.

    Between family, friends, city adventures, quiet mornings, and taking time to ground myself, July reminded me that growth isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s found in ordinary moments that slowly shape the person you’re becoming.

    As August begins, I’m not chasing some dramatic transformation. I’m simply carrying these lessons with me, continuing to say yes to the moments that matter, making time for the people I love, and remembering to always make space for myself along the way.

    Because sometimes, that’s exactly where the biggest growth happens.

  • The Little Things Holding Me Together This Summer

    Summer always has a way of making everything feel louder.

    The days are longer, the sun feels stronger, the plans start filling up, and suddenly life feels like it is moving faster than I can sometimes keep up with.

    But this summer, I have been paying more attention to the little things.

    Not the big milestones. Not the perfect plans. Not the moments that need to be posted right away or explained to anyone else. Just the small things that have been quietly holding me together when life feels busy, emotional, or uncertain.

    A walk outside.
    A good iced coffee.
    A song that finds me at the right time.
    A workout that reminds me I can keep going.
    A family moment that makes me laugh harder than I expected.
    A quiet night where I get to come back home to myself.

    I think sometimes we wait for life to feel completely figured out before we let ourselves enjoy it. We wait for the answer, the healing, the closure, the next chapter, or the sign that everything is finally okay.

    But lately, I am realizing that maybe the little things are not just distractions from the bigger things.

    Maybe they are the proof that I am still being cared for in the middle of becoming.

    This summer, I am learning that being held together does not always look dramatic. Sometimes it looks like showing up for yourself in tiny ways, even when your heart is tired.

    For me, that has looked like giving myself weekends with some crafts, seeing my people, making more memories, and finding small ways to feel present again.

    It has also looked like writing in my journal and calling it a brain dump when I need to get everything out of my mind. There is something comforting about putting my thoughts somewhere safe. Even when the page is messy, it still feels like a release.

    I have grown to appreciate those little things more. The quiet routines. The simple plans. The moments where I laugh without expecting to. The people who show up for me without making me ask twice.

    Sometimes we think being held together means having everything under control. But this summer is showing me that maybe it means letting the little things carry you when the bigger things feel heavy.

    Maybe it is the iced coffee before a long day.
    Maybe it is the walk that clears your head.
    Maybe it is the song that says what you could not explain.
    Maybe it is family, friends, movement, writing, or a quiet night in.

    This summer has reminded me that I do not always need one big thing to save me.

    Sometimes, I just need a collection of small things that remind me I am still here, still growing, still becoming, and still allowed to enjoy life in the middle of it all.

    And honestly, those little things have been holding me together in more ways than one.