Tag Archives: Adventure

Chapter 2

44

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? 

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About Me, Chapter 2, Mental Health, Where to?

Beige

Lately, I’ve been wrestling with a strange feeling. I feel like I left my sparkle in DFW. Back then, I shined bright—bold, vibrant, effervescent. I was the type of person who lit up rooms, who carried a certain energy, a certain extra that made me feel alive.

Now? I feel beige. Neutral. Faded. Completely… blah.

It makes me wonder: is this what growing up is supposed to feel like? Trading in sparkle for steadiness, vibrancy for responsibility, joy for a “just get through the day” kind of existence? If it is—then I don’t want to grow up.

Moving, transitioning, and starting over later in life are not small things. Sometimes the sparkle isn’t lost—it’s buried under the weight of change. We juggle work, family, bills, routines, expectations. And slowly, the parts of us that once danced so freely get quiet. They’re still there, just muted.

But here’s the thing I’m starting to realize: sparkle doesn’t expire. It doesn’t vanish when you turn 30, 40, or even 70. It doesn’t disappear when you relocate or reinvent yourself. Sparkle is a state of being, a choice, a return to what lights you up.

Maybe the question isn’t, “Did I lose my sparkle?” Maybe it’s, “Where can I find it again?”

Finding My Sparkle Again

For me, sparkle looks like:

  • Being around people who energize me, not drain me.
  • Doing things that bring me joy simply because they make me smile.
  • Saying yes to experiences that scare me a little but also make me feel alive.
  • Dressing up just because, blasting music in the car, laughing loudly at all times.

In other words—sparkle is about choosing vibrancy in a world that often feels dull.

A Note to Myself (and Maybe to You Too)

Growing up doesn’t have to mean giving up my sparkle. Adulthood doesn’t have to equal beige. Yes, life changes. Yes, I carry more responsibilities. But that doesn’t mean I can’t sparkle again. Maybe the grown-up version of sparkle just looks different: less about wild nights out, more about being fully alive in the little things.

And if I’m really honest, maybe the fact that I even miss my sparkle is proof that it’s still in me somewhere—waiting for me to bring it back to life.

Here’s to sequins in the everyday, laughter in the ordinary, and sparkle— always sparkle— no matter the season.

DDC

Question: Have you ever felt beige? Is “beige” a phase we all go through, or a warning sign that I need to recalibrate? And maybe most importantly—what’s your go-to move when you feel beige? What do you do as your personal “anti-beige” to bring the sparkle back?

Lesson: Growing up doesn’t have to mean dimming down. Adulthood doesn’t have to equal beige. It’s possible to carry responsibility and still keep joy, spontaneity, and vibrancy alive.

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About Me, Chapter 2, Love Life, Mental Health, Therapy, Where to?

Haphazard

The only man you can prove I’ve been with once called me haphazard.

At the time, I wasn’t clear on the definition, but the word stuck with me. Haphazard. Neither “hap” nor “hazard” sounded like he meant it kindly. The moment has clung to me for over 20 years.

We were at a gas station exchanging something—I can’t remember the reason why. The why has faded. The what, however—what he said—stuck.

Haphazard means something done in a random, disorganized, or careless way—lacking a definite plan, order, or direction.

And the truth is, twenty-year-old DDC was, in fact, haphazard. No plan. A little order. A vague direction.

Fast forward two decades.

While preparing for my son’s college graduation, I realized how many days I’d be away from the office and thought: Maybe I’ll dye my hair hot pink while I’m off. A bold vacation choice. I’d done it before—dyed it pink in January for our family cruise, then went back to “office-approved” before returning to work. I’m not loyal to any one hair color these days, but I absolutely love hot pink.

So I asked my son if he cared.
He said, “I couldn’t care less.”
Cool. He’s calm like that—unbothered by most things.

Then I mentioned it to my mom.
“Hot pink hair is unprofessional,” she said.
I explained I’d return to work with a natural color. I even recalled that during my job interview, I specifically asked my supervisor about hair color. He said he didn’t mind pink hair.

But as the trip approached, I stalled. I never bought the dye.
The night before we left, I realized: I’m not doing it.

And that’s when it hit me.

Haphazard.

He called me that twenty years ago—when it was true. But even now, with a plan, permission, and pink hair history, I still didn’t follow through. Why?

Because some part of me didn’t want to hear his mouth, even if only in my memory. I didn’t want to imagine his face twisted in disapproval.

Why do I care?
I wish I didn’t.
I’m disappointed that I gave energy to a man from my past whose opinion should hold no power today. But here we are. It happened.

DDC

Lesson: Even when we grow, old voices can echo. The challenge is learning to turn the volume down—and let our own voices lead instead.

Question: What old label or comment still lingers in your mind—and how much of your present is it quietly influencing?

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About Me, Career, Chapter 2, Mental Health, Where to?

One Year Later: A U-Haul, a New Chapter, and the Fragile Gift of Starting Over

A year ago today, I loaded up a 15-foot U-Haul with my memories, my belongings, and a heart full of hope (and fear) and drove away from the life I had built in Dallas over nearly two decades.

I didn’t know what would meet me on the other side of that drive to Gonzales, Louisiana. I just knew it was time. Time to be closer to family. Time to listen to that quiet inner nudge that kept whispering, “It’s okay to begin again.”

Today, I find myself in my feelings. Raw. Reflective. Fragile.
I’m struggling to concentrate on my HR duties, so I decided to pause and write. It’s been a while since I’ve posted—my last entry was on my birthday, November 23, 2024. I had just turned 43. A lot can happen in a year.

Since that post, life has unfolded in unexpected and beautiful ways.

I landed the job I once dreamed about—an HR Coordinator role that truly fits me. For years, I worked in recruiting and longed for something broader. I wanted to expand beyond interviews and resumes into a more holistic HR space, and I did it. My current role allows me to support employees more fully, contribute to engagement, and still flex my recruiting muscles—without it consuming my entire day. It feels like purpose and alignment found their way back to me.

Slowly but surely, I’m settling into life in Gonzales.
I have a church home that pours into my spirit.
I’ve joined a local Toastmasters club that’s helping me grow in courage and connection.
I’m meeting new people.
I’m rekindling old friendships.
I’m rebuilding a life from the ground up—and letting it look different this time.

But even with all the progress, there are days like today—quiet, emotional, and a bit heavy.
Days where I miss the familiar. Days where the cost of the move feels loud.
Where the memories from Dallas tug on my heartstrings, reminding me of what was.
Starting over is brave… and it’s also tender.

I’m learning that success and sadness can coexist. That growth often walks hand-in-hand with grief. That joy doesn’t erase the ache—it simply reminds us why we keep going.

So today, I’m giving myself grace.
To feel it all.
To celebrate the milestones.
To mourn the losses.
To rest in the middle of the journey.

If you’re reading this and you’ve started over recently—know that you’re not alone.
It’s okay to feel everything.
It’s okay to still be finding your footing.
It’s okay to be proud and sad all at once.

This isn’t the end. It’s just the one-year mark.
And I have a feeling year two will be even more powerful.

All Good Things,
DDC

Lesson: Starting over is both brave and tender—and it’s okay to feel everything that comes with it.

Question: Have you ever made a big life change — like moving, changing careers, or starting over? What helped you get through the transition?

You can leave your response on IG.

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Chapter 2, Mental Health, Where to?

Adjusting

I’ve been in Louisiana for 70 days now, and I’m just about settled into my space. I have one moving box left to unpack—shoes. It’s amazing how many shoes I have, considering I wear the same pink flip-flops on a regular basis.

I know to clean the guest bathroom every Friday and take the trash out on Tuesday evenings.

I’ve got a couple of churches on my radar and have selected a local Toastmasters club to join.

I know of two taco spots with great deals. Mi Padres has a Taco Tuesday special: three tacos and a margarita for $15.

I started working as a bartender at a daiquiri shop three miles away and had an interview with PJ’s Coffee today, which went well.

Mom and I have developed a good rhythm. I enjoy quality time with my mom and Mason. We saw Inside Out 2 together. Great movie. I’ve made a few connections with old friends.

I was introduced to a very nice cigar bar in town. Good vibes. Great music. Perhaps I enjoyed the venue more because of who I was with than because of the venue itself. Perhaps.

How long does it take to start over? I am starting over in my forties. I have the opportunity to choose my identity. I am trying to figure it out as I go.

Lesson: It is starting to feel like home.

Question: Daiquiris or coffee?

DDC

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About Me, Chapter 2, Mental Health

Reset

I absolutely love a reset. Yearly reset. Monthly reset. Weekly reset. Daily reset. A reset is a chance to start over. A reset is the opportunity of a new beginning. 

“In the canvas of life, a new beginning is the brushstroke that paints the beauty of possibility. It’s not just a chance to start over; it’s an opportunity to craft a masterpiece, a chance to get it right, and an embrace of the endless potential that unfolds with every fresh start.”

I love to watch YouTube videos of people conducting their own resets. My favorite YouTuber MuchelleB is famous (to me) for the reset. She walks us through her resets with her Australian accent and I am always engrossed. So intrigued that I have rewatched her videos from 3-4 years ago with patience. It’s amusing to watch her older resets as she is using platforms that I am unfamiliar with. Have you ever heard of Things 3? 

Every new year I make a list of lofty goals in several areas of my life that I dream to achieve during the year. I would spend weeks creating elaborate vision boards of my dreams for a successful year. Then I would not refer to that vision board until the next year to create the new vision. 

This year is different. Totally different. In my Tamar Braxton voice. This year I am reviewing my annual goals on a weekly basis. Making plans for that week to progress towards the vision. 

“A goal without a plan is just a wish, a dream waiting for the blueprint of action to bring it to life.”

How did I plan to achieve the beautiful elaborate vision board without a plan? Hence, the weekly reset. On a weekly basis I review the goals for the year and plan what needs to happen that week in order to achieve the bigger picture. This year I am using the tools I have learned from watching countless YouTube videos on how to achieve the desires of my heart. 

DDC

Lesson: A reset is a weekly must. 

Question: How do you prepare for a new week? A new month? A new year? 

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Chapter 2

IRL

I miss being held at night. It felt like home. I miss his consideration. He could be very thoughtful. I miss end of the day conversations. I miss feeling appreciated while preparing Hello Fresh. I miss someone else cleaning up afterwards. I miss having a handyman. I miss being in a couple. I miss having someone to do life with. I miss being an “us.”

What am I doing about it? I joined Hinge, an online dating site, a couple weeks ago. Potential matches are fewer than Tinder but more than Coffee Meets Bagel. Hinge advertises they are designed for you to get off the app with a match. I’d honestly rather meet someone in real life. IRL. Does that happen anymore? Why does dating have to be so complicated?

I’m ready for a life partner.

At least I’m ready to try.

XOXO

Lesson: I’m accepting life partner applications.

Question: Who do you know?

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Chapter 2, Daddy, Love Life

A Taste of Coffee

Coffee reached out after my Daddy’s memorial expressing his concern and offering his support. He has always been a thoughtful man. When he said, “if there’s anything that I can do to help support you, then let me know,” I’ve been offered support in the past, but I never know what I needed. I immediately knew what I needed when Coffee offered.

That night, I longed for friendly banter, companionship, and the comfort of being held. It reminded me of a line from “Waiting to Exhale” where Angela Bassett’s character, separated from her husband, admits, “I’m not like you, Gloria. I need to be held, even if it is a damn lie.” But what if it wasn’t a lie?

I eagerly awaited Coffee’s arrival, glancing through the peephole after he called from the parking lot. When he stood at my door, I sensed him collecting himself, preparing to interact with me, his ex. Encounters like these can be unpredictable. Our last phone conversation wasn’t pleasant, though not heated, just uncomfortable. Endings often carry that weight, but it wasn’t what I desired for us.

Coffee looked great, wearing a crisp white short-sleeve button-up and khaki cargo shorts, exuding a casual and classic vibe. We engaged in casual banter, catching up like old friends. He noticed that I had rearranged my furniture, making my apartment appear larger—a realization of the cute studio apartment I had always dreamed of. Chapter Two.

Have you ever experienced the realization you are living at least one of your dreams?

Coffee and I lay on top of the comforter, watching “Funny People” on Netflix. I chose the movie, as I adore Adam Sandler, and Seth Rogen’s humor always brings me joy. I needed a good laugh.

That night, Coffee held me close, and I reveled in being the little spoon. It felt incredibly comforting and pleasurable, as if the past had evaporated. It was as if he hadn’t ghosted me, as if he genuinely wanted to be with me, as if we were both at home in Chapter Two.

XOXO

Lesson: I had a taste for some Coffee this week.

Question: What’s your favorite Adam Sandler movie?

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Chapter 2, Mason

An Inauguration

Proud parent moment. Mason Riley has officially joined the workforce!

Mason started begging for a job in his junior year of high school. I was adamantly opposed to him working. I said, “you have the rest of your life to have a job.” I understood his desire for his own money, but I also knew I would make sure he had everything he needed. Mason doesn’t ask for much. He chooses to go without rather than asking me. I believe he’s afraid to be a burden even though I reassure him that is what parents are for.

Now, he is six months away from being 21 years old. It’s the summer before his junior year of college. He’s a man. A man needs to feel the ability to provide. I believe it’s time.

He’s been applying for part time jobs since May and finally landed his role at the neighborhood movie theater. A walkable commute for his first gig. He loves movies. I mean REALLY loves movies. Working at the theater is a dream come true for him. Free movies. The fact that it’s a walkable distance from the apartment is a dream come true for me.

XOXO

Lesson: My baby boy is officially a man.

Question: What was your first job?

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Chapter 2, Love Life

Retrospective

I am in the process of a career pivot. I’ve been in talent acquisition for 10+ years and have lost the love I initially had. I am interested in transitioning to project management. I attended a project management professional exam preparation class two weeks back. A wonderful experience. I enjoy being a student. The instructor was a very knowledgeable Black woman who was unusually enamored with the Olympics named Jackie O. Every example went back to an element of the Olympics in a project management context. The real life examples made the difficult curriculum significantly easier to digest.

She introduced the concept of a retrospective early on. A retrospective provides a structured opportunity for groups to discuss successes, challenges, and areas for development in order to make informed decisions and adjustments going forward.

Ever interact with someone and immediately recognize they have a different approach to dating? I had a first date recently. Drinks. He chose the location. Hayride Scandal in Baton Rouge. I appreciate effort being exhibited in the initial stages. There’s something about a guy planning the date that is a real turn on.

The atmosphere of the venue was a definite vibe. Mood lighting. Bartender was a mixologist. Drinks were made with style and precision. Our conversation was a mixture of engaging and hilarious. A man who makes me laugh is a definite short cut to get into my heart. He knew the cheat code early on.

The next day he asked what were my thoughts on the date. Initially, I was so taken back by the question I had no idea how to answer. The question was a very new experience for me. He asked what went well and what would I have changed about the date. Wait, is this a date retrospective? The combination of the pretty amazing first date with his desire to confirm I also thought the date was indeed amazing has my interest in him solidified.

Cheers to new beginnings!

XOXO

Lesson: He has demonstrated his ability to have intimate conversation and it’s only been a week. In our short time together, I can already see his ability to positively contribute to Chapter Two. With his encouragement, I downloaded Duolingo and started learning a new language. 7 day streak. I have also downloaded Vocabulary, a word a day app to enhance my lexicon. He uses words like ostentatious and amalgamation in casual.

Question: What green flags do you look for in the early dating stages?

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