My conversations with God........

Before I begin my rant, I want to start with gratitude.

Thank you.

My circumstances this year have improved so much from last year. I am no longer struggling for the basics, and I don’t take that lightly. And yet—despite the stability, despite the provision—I still find myself frustrated.

God, I don’t understand so much.

I’m trying my best to make sense of it all, but the process isn’t easy. Still, I have no doubt that You love me. I’m learning, slowly, to love and trust You too—and that part is beautiful. I am deeply grateful for the opportunity, even when the journey itself feels wild.

So often I don’t know if I’m coming or going, or whether I’m truly on the right path. I rely on my “tummy test” more than ever now, and I feel calm more often about most things. But there is still uncertainty—about outcomes, about timing, about what’s next. I admit that uncertainty feels gentler than anxiety, and perhaps that is growth.

I’ve noticed something else too.

I am no longer willing to overlook what I once let slide. Rudeness and disrespect are louder now. Manipulation and emotional abuse no longer whisper—I hear them clearly. And more importantly, I no longer accept them. I demand more. I deserve more. That realisation is unsettling, especially when it shifts the coasters of my life.

I don’t understand everything—but I am wise. I am sure of this. I am even more certain of my expertise. I am not the Donna I once was, and settling into this new version of myself requires adjustment, patience, and grace.

I came here to complain.

I came here to cry.

Instead, I find that I am growing.

And growth, I realise, is what I desire most.

I ask for emotional intelligence. I ask for wisdom—to release those who no longer belong close to me. And above all, I ask that You do not leave me. Finding You has been everything I needed, and somehow even more than I imagined.

I have often said that I was not loved for 37 years. Perhaps that was true through my own broken lens. Perhaps it was incomplete. I see now that I am loved—and loveable—with a rich and complex experience of love and life behind me.

I struggle with reciprocity.

But I am learning to need it less.

And I am learning to give more to little Donna-Ray.

I have tried to love my children in ways I was never cared for, and I hope I have not failed them. It is both terrifying and extraordinary—to parent while healing. Still, I trust that presence, honesty, and love matter more than perfection.

This journey is scary.

And it is amazing.

I wish I knew more. But I trust that in time—if I continue to do the work—it will all come together.

I am grateful for the opportunity to be alive.

To learn.

To seek.

To explore this beautiful world.

I do not ignore my privilege—it is immense. And I know that to whom much is given, much is required. I have been given so much: beauty, intellect, depth, sensuality, emotional intelligence, meaningful work.

For all of it, God, I am profoundly grateful.

Thank you. 🙏🏾

A modern day crime......sexiness!

The hardest part about being a beautiful woman is not the beauty itself, but the way the world responds to it.

For many of us, it begins quietly and early — a sideways comment, a look held for too long, a growing awareness that the body you are becoming is suddenly being watched, judged, and discussed. Sometimes this scrutiny begins within your own family. Curves appear, maturity follows, and instead of guidance or protection, shame too often takes its place.

As adolescence unfolds, the commentary multiplies. Friends, classmates, strangers — everyone seems to have an opinion. Remarks, subtle insinuations, and unspoken expectations accumulate, and without realising it, you begin to carry them within you. They shape how you see yourself long before you are old enough to question them.

Life, of course, is not linear. Sometimes choices are made before we are fully ready, or circumstances unfold in ways we never planned. Too often, instead of being met with compassion, women are met with labels. Our stories are reduced to assumptions; our character is questioned before it is understood.

What usually follows is a long, quiet journey back to self. Learning to be gentle with your body. Learning to see it as yours again. Learning that confidence and sensuality are not flaws, but natural expressions of comfort, ownership, and self-acceptance.

Yet even then, the world does not always know how to respond to a woman who is both self-possessed and sensual. Confidence is mistaken for availability. Ease in one’s own skin is misinterpreted. Over time, this becomes exhausting — until eventually, it becomes clarifying.

With age comes discernment. You learn that peace is not always found in explaining yourself, but in choosing distance. In protecting your energy. In surrounding yourself only with those who see you fully and treat you with care.

I embrace my sexiness now not as rebellion, and not as armour, but as truth. It is not something I wear for validation. It is simply part of who I am.

Being sexy does not diminish my values. It does not define my worth. And it certainly does not place a price on me.

I am a woman with a good heart, doing her best to honour her responsibilities, care for her family, and grow into herself with integrity. I work hard. I love deeply. And I no longer apologise for taking up space exactly as I am.

This is not defiance.

It is self-respect.