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!
My BFF got married this weekend at a beautiful, love-filled wedding — the kind of day that feels like a movie, where everything and everyone is glowing, and you can feel love in the air like confetti.
I told her that I wanted to be on program at her wedding. Her response? “There’s no program, but you can speak at the reception.” Somehow, I heard that as a maybe. Not exactly the guaranteed microphone moment I envisioned.
Still, I prepared — because that’s what best friends do. I spent the weeks leading up to the wedding studying YouTube speeches, jotting down notes, and even consulting ChatGPT (yes, I had AI assist with my emotions — don’t judge). I wrote a few sentences that I thought might capture our friendship — just in case the opportunity came up.
Then came the reception. The music was perfect, the love was loud, and the energy was everything. At one point, Sharecker walked over to me and said, “It’s almost time for speeches.”
And I froze. Like a deer in headlights.
She must’ve noticed because she immediately offered, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
But of course I wanted to.
I reached for my phone to review the notes I’d so carefully prepared — and right then, my phone screen went black. Dead. No charger in sight.
So I did what best friends do when life doesn’t go according to plan — I spoke from the heart.
I stood up, nerves shaking, voice cracking, and said what I could remember: that I loved her deeply, that I was proud of her, and that seeing her so happy filled me with joy. There were laughs, there were tears, and it felt like the right kind of imperfect — the kind that’s real.
But now, with my 27” monitor, full battery, and all the words that escaped me that night — here’s the speech I should have given:
The Speech
Good evening, everyone. I’m Danielle Denise Clark, and I have the honor of being best friends with the beautiful bride, Sharecker.
We met riding bikes in middle school, and from the very first moment, I knew I needed her in my life for the rest of my life.
Over the past 30 years, Sharecker has always been love in motion. With acts of service as her love language, she has shown up for me in every way imaginable — physically, emotionally, spiritually, and wholeheartedly.
We’re quite the opposites, too. I can be loud, over the top, and a little extra — while she’s calm, reserved, and effortlessly cool. But that balance has always been the heartbeat of our friendship.
Sharecker is generous with her spirit, steady in her presence, and intentional with her words. She doesn’t just talk about love — she lives it.
And today, watching her marry Charles — the man who makes her feel safe, seen, and protected — felt like witnessing love find its home.
So here’s to Sharecker and Charles: May your marriage be filled with joy, understanding, forgiveness, and friendship. May you continue to choose each other everyday, again and again, in both the ordinary and extraordinary moments that make up your life together.
And in the words of a great poet, Nicki Minaj: “It’s a celebration every time we link up. Greatness is what we are on the brink of. I wish I could have this moment for life”
Cheers to the Sellers — to love, laughter, and a lifetime of togetherness.
Six months ago, I packed up my life, loaded a U-Haul, and left behind nearly two decades in Texas to start fresh in Louisiana.
I had spent 19 years building a life, raising my son, and making memories away from home, but the pull to return was undeniable. After my Daddy passed, my Mama was left alone, feeling aged and heartbroken, and I found myself alone, without a career, and needing a new direction. So I made the choice to come back, ready to be there for my Mom and to start life anew.
The decision wasn’t easy—starting over in your 40s takes resilience, adaptability, and, to be honest, a good supply of lotion infused tissues for those tough days and deep, tearful moments. A lot of tears have been shed. I felt a pull to rediscover my roots, reconnect with family, and carve out a new path.
This journey has come with plenty of adjustments and a fair share of unknowns. From adapting to life with my mom under one roof again, to building a new career, nurturing my faith, and even finding ways to invest in my own wellness, these last six months have challenged and changed me. Each step has been about more than just unpacking boxes; it’s been about uncovering pieces of myself that I hadn’t focused on in years. A new beginning.
Home. All boxes are unpacked, and my clothes and things are put away—everything has a place, and there’s a place for everything. After twenty years of living on my own since leaving my parents’ house with my one-year-old son, moving back has been an adjustment. A huge adjustment. I was a bit worried, knowing that in the past, Mom and I had a track record. We could only go about four days together before our personalities started to clash. How would it be to live under her roof, under her eye, and under her expectations?
Now, we seem to be adjusting pretty well—or at least, I think so. Wishful thinking. Every few weeks, I get the inevitable “we need to talk” conversation. This month’s topic? Replacing the wine I finished. Fair enough. So, after work, I’m off to the local grocery store to pick up two bottles of wine per her request.
Career. I now hold three jobs: bartender, barista, and Bursar’s Assistant. The first two are part-time weekend roles, while the Bursar’s Assistant is a full-time, four-month contract position with the college. Being in a state role here in Louisiana feels significant, and I can almost feel my dad smiling down, proud to see me in a government-related role like he once was. Miss you Daddy.
This summer, my good friend encouraged me to apply to a temp agency with hopes of finding work at Southern University, despite it being over 30 miles away. And about a month ago, I received a job offer much closer to home—a position at a local community college less than six miles from where I live. Blessed and highly favored. I’ve driven by the sign for the college countless times without truly noticing it, so discovering it in this way felt meant to be. Huge thanks to TT!
My second week at the college I expressed my interest in becoming a permanent team member and asked to meet with the Director of Human Resources. I came to the conversation prepared with points thoroughly outlining my qualifications for a posted Technology Coordinator role—and it was clear that the Director was just as ready to discuss the unposted HR Coordinator role with me. Smile. After a welcoming conversation, I applied for the HR Coordinator position where I’d be “the face of the human resources department.” The face? Wow! Right up my alley!!
Wellness. I’ve been doing pretty good with consistent daily walks, which have become a reliable part of my routine. I tried the Beachbody 21-Day Fix program, a plan that helped me lose 30 pounds in the past, but this time, I haven’t managed to complete it. I’m leaning towards a simpler approach—sticking with daily walks, strength training twice a week, and practicing portion control. My sweet tooth had been out of control, but I’m finally reining it in. Though my attempts to restart a more intense fitness regimen haven’t stuck, I’m grateful for the consistency I’ve found in simpler routines that keep me grounded and healthy.
Relationships. This is an area where I continue to struggle. I am intensely lonely. Tears. The last six months have been deeply lonely; when I arrived, I isolated myself, rarely reaching out to others. Depression weighed heavily, leaving me without much to say. Worried about being perceived as “the depressed girl,” I stayed in my own bubble, finding comfort in audiobooks. So far, I’ve listened to 50 books this year—more than I have read in my lifetime combined.
Now, I almost feel ready to reconnect, but I’m not quite sure how to step back into social circles. Do I need to schedule time with friends, like an appointment? Everyone has busy lives of their own. Maybe I will ask ChatGPT to create a structured approach to re-entering the world. Gotta love the ChatGPT! Mom and I are under the same roof but I still can’t quite say we are close. Tears. My son and I have set up a weekly call, and each week we find a good time to talk, catching each other up on our lives. I love me some Mason Riley:) That one connection has been a lifeline, and maybe it’s a good model for reconnecting with others.
Spiritual. In October, I took a meaningful step and became a member of a local Baptist church. This past Sunday, I signed up to serve in the Media Ministry, and I’ll attend my first meeting this Wednesday. I also began a prayer journal over the weekend. Since I’m new to prayer journaling, I’m using the ACTS Prayer Model—Adoration, Confession, Thanksgiving, Supplication—as a guide for my entries.
Personal. I started the Google Project Management Program two years ago. 24 months. Though it’s advertised as a six-month program, I have a former colleague who managed to complete it in just five weeks. I’m currently on course 5 out of 6. I finished the coursework once but didn’t pass the exam, so I’m going through the modules a second time, now taking detailed notes to ensure I fully understand the material.
Finances. I’m thrilled to say that I finally have a little cushion in the bank, and it feels amazing. My bartending job has allowed me to save cash money for the first time in my life. Last month, Mom and I went to get our toes done, and being able to pay for my own gel pedicure was a small but meaningful milestone in my financial progress.
Creativity. Becoming a YouTube content creator was one of my top goals for 2024, but so far, I’ve only managed to produce a handful of videos. I’m not entirely sure what’s holding me back—maybe it’s the fear of others judging my videos, a lack of clarity on how to navigate YouTube, or perhaps I don’t want it as much as I initially thought. I need to reflect on my motivations and determine the next steps to move forward.
On November 16, 2024 it will be officially six months back in Louisiana, and I’m finally beginning to feel grounded. Unpacking all my belongings was just the first step; now I’m learning to navigate life with family again and balancing new roles that push me forward professionally. I’ve embraced each challenge with patience and humor, including the occasional mother-daughter “we need to talk” chats. Every area of life has required intention, from joining a church community to stabilizing my finances and prioritizing health and creativity.
This season has reminded me that starting over is complex, sometimes messy, but it also brings growth and connection. Whether it’s learning to find joy in the simplest things, reconnecting with people, or laying the foundation for new habits, I’m realizing that “home” is more than a place. It’s a process of rediscovering who I am and creating a life that aligns with that. And while I’m not where I thought I’d be, I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.
DDC
Lesson: In the words of Fantasia Barrino’s brother from her short lived time in reality tv, “It feels so good to be home, shorty!”
Question: What’s your go-to move for staying connected without looking like you’re desperately craving human interaction …even though you definitely are?
PS. I went to Alexander’s Market to my buy my mom’s wine. It costs $18.99!! She got money!!! Two bottles are not in my budget, so I bought one bottle. I will get bottle #2 next week and I will no longer drink her 5% ALC wine anymore.
A change of address is coming and I am experiencing a multitude of emotions. Excited. Sad. Nervous. Eager. Nostalgic. Regretful. Joyful. Curious. Grateful.
Excited. I moved to Texas two weeks after my college graduation in May 2005. I have visited throughout the years but never longer than 2 weeks. I am excited to experience the 2024 version of Louisiana. Excited to establish a life of intention. Excited for a chance for a new beginning. A life reset:)
Sad.
Nervous. Being in my parent’s home without my Daddy has saddened me every visit. Sometimes just for a moment. Sometimes for a few hours that include wailing tears. I am nervous about my ability to maintain a positive, happy, hopeful disposition. Nervous that my sparkle will dwindle in my new environment. Nervous that the grief stricken energy which permeates the walls of my parent’s home will transfer to me. Nervous that my pop of pink starburst energy will become beige.
Eager. Moving home is the ultimate reset. A metamorphosis. During metamorphosis, the caterpillar undergoes significant changes in its body structure and physiology, eventually emerging as a completely different creature with adaptations suited for its adult life. I am eager to undergo significant changes. Change in body structure. Change in environment. Change in mindset.
Nostalgic. A time was had in the DFW metroplex these last 19 years. I have been reflecting over the people and places that made an impact on who I am today. I spent many a Friday night happy hours at the Pappadeaux’s on Frankford then would let the night take us where it may. Hey Kelly*. I remember the night that a semi famous comedian gave me the dollars out of his pocket after I performed Mary J. Blidge’s ‘Not Gon Cry’ at Maxwell’s on a Tuesday. Karaoke was, is, and will forever be my love. Thankfully, I stumbled upon a Thursday night karaoke only 3 miles away.
Regretful. Are you familiar with the butterfly effect? A concept which suggests that small changes in initial conditions can lead to vastly different outcomes. New discoveries of productivity and attention strategies that I have been learning recently make me wonder who I could have been if I knew then what I know now. I am currently using a pomodoro technique to write this blog. It is a time management method designed to improve focus and productivity by breaking work into manageable chunks and incorporating regular breaks to maintain mental freshness. It involves breaking work into intervals, traditionally 25 minutes in length, separated by short breaks. I wonder who would I be if I knew the pomodoro technique in 2005. What could I have done with that one simple technique? We will never know and it does no good to ponder over the what ifs.
Joyful. I am moving home to live with my Mom. Last year my Mom suggested the idea of my moving home. I am still in shock that this move was her idea. I am joyful to have the opportunity to build a meaningful relationship with her at this stage of our lives. Joyful for the front row seat to her potential metamorphosis. EXTREMELY joyful for having a significant reduction in monthly living expenses.
Curious. What lies ahead? Will I shine bright like a diamond? Will I be a neutral beige? Will my Mom and I become buddies and have a made for television relationship? Hallmark not Tubi.
Grateful. I am grateful that my Mom has welcomed me into her home.
DDC
Lesson: A passenger called me Starburst as a nickname this week and I liked it.