The Saturday of the Sovereign Truth: A 1.5-Mile Reality Check
If you would’ve told me this morning—after my workout—that I’d end the night dealing with something that’s been hanging around for almost a decade…
I probably would’ve laughed.
But here we are.
THE MORNING
The day started slow.
Woke up, moved around a little, let my body wake up instead of rushing into anything.
Did my Glow Getter routine—supplements, collagen, and peptides.
Had the camera rolling while I was doing it, talking through it like I always do.
Then headed to Lifetime for Sculpted Warrior.
Honestly, it was probably one of the best classes I’ve had yet.
My body is healing, and I can feel the difference.
Finished my workout, came home and of course I was craving cottage cheese, cucumber, and ranch seasoning—hydration and protein.
Took a shower.
Prepped my hair.
Then went over to my girlfriend’s house so we could put my business logo stickers on my clean car.
Just two girls outside for a couple hours, talking, laughing, figuring out placement, enjoying the time.
DINNER
Later, I took myself out—and I was scared shitless.
Shaking. Nervous.
Walking up to a place like that by myself… yeah, it got to me.
Pulled up to valet and this cute young guy comes up—super kind, super respectful.
Just his energy alone started calming me down a little.
Then I get to the front.
The woman checking people in looks at me and goes,
“Oh, are you meeting someone?”
And I said, “No, I’m here by myself.”
I told her why I was there—just taking myself out, celebrating, working on my memoir.
She starts complimenting me, like genuinely.
Said she assumed I was meeting someone because I looked so put together—
told me my shoes were killer.
And yeah… I had on my Converse high heels, black mesh dress, curly hair actually behaving for once.
I’m not even gonna lie—
I looked good.
She walked me over to the bar and said,
“The bartender is really kind. You’ll feel comfortable here.”
Then she stopped for a second and said,
“Congratulations. You deserve to celebrate yourself like this. I admire that.”
So I sat down, ordered my steak and brussels sprouts,
and got to work—
writing a piece in my memoir, honoring my dad.
THE PART THAT MATTERED
While I was sitting there writing about my dad, it brought me back to something he said to me in a parking lot on October 20.
I didn’t fully get it back then.
But I sure the hell do now.
It hit me like a ton of bricks—especially with what I’ve been dealing with these past couple of months.
THE BILL & THE NUDGE
When it came time to pay, I checked my account—the one I was using for dinner.
$666.
I just kind of looked at it and laughed.
Then I headed out.
About 1.5 miles from my house, I see sirens in my rearview mirror.
If you’ve been reading my shit, you already know—sirens are a trigger for me.
Even when I know I haven’t done anything wrong, the body doesn’t always understand that.
That anxiety tries to come in.
But this time… I stayed calm.
I was aware of it, but I didn’t let it take over as I watched the officer pull over the car behind me.
THE TEXT
I’ve been sitting here all day thinking about how I’m going to send a message to a friend that speaks the truth.
These are facts.
And they’ve been patterns for almost a decade.
I finalized that text at 10:11 PM while I was laying in bed so I could have a clear mind to write this blog.
All I have to do now is hit send.
I’ll schedule it for 11:11 tomorrow.
And I’m at peace with it.
And is it a coincidence that all of this happened on 4/11—me sitting here alone on a Saturday night, writing, thinking, releasing what’s been building? Or is there a reason this all lined up the way it did?
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