On Sunday, November 23, 2025, I turned 44 years old. And if I’m being straight with you—this past year has been… heavy.

Coming home as an adult is complicated. You return to familiar streets and familiar people, but life doesn’t rewind just because you did. Rebuilding isn’t automatic. It takes intention, self-awareness, and the courage to face the parts of your life that feel empty.

I walked back into Louisiana with a loose plan:

• find a stable income 
• find a church home 
• find a Toastmasters meeting.

 A decent start, but not nearly enough for the life I need.

Even though I know I’m a person who thrives on community, laughter, conversation, and shared space, I didn’t create a plan to nurture connection. I didn’t set expectations for maintaining old relationships or building new ones. In the back of my mind, I kept imagining friendships just falling into place—like they used to. People popping in, inviting me out, recreating the same spontaneous warmth I once felt in Texas.

But life doesn’t recreate the past. Not without effort. Not without intention.

I declared 2025 my “Year of Connection,” but looking back, it wasn’t a year of connection. It was the year that revealed how deeply I craved connection—how much I missed feeling woven into a community. A year that showed me the difference between wanting connection and actually building it. That realization forced me to get honest about my lack of action.

Craving connection without specific action leads nowhere. And the truth is, my cravings don’t matter if my actions don’t match them. I’ve been in a self-induced isolation for so long that I almost forgot how to be a friend and how to connect. Realizing that made me see just how much I’ve been missing real closeness.

I want connection. Real connection. The kind that looks like weekly calls, occasional brunches, random Tuesday hangouts, sitting in someone’s living room talking about life. I’m not craving quick, empty check-ins. I’m craving meaningful relationships that naturally include those small moments — the shared posts, the random texts, the tiny touchpoints that make life feel lighter and more human.

As I step into 44, I know exactly what I want this year to mean:
The year I walk out of isolation.
The year I choose connection with intention.
The year I return to spiritual grounding and reconnect with the church in a real, committed way.
I’m naturally a dramatic person. I don’t need 44 to be dramatic. I just need it to be deliberate.
A quiet turning toward community. A gentle re-entry into belonging. A reflective acknowledgment that I’m ready to live again—not just exist.

And this year, I’m choosing connection on purpose.

DDC

Lesson: Oh yes it’s time. Connection time! I’m coming out of isolation and into my connected era. Ready or not. Here I come! 

Question: So . . .  where do I start?