The View From Here

It’s Saturday night.

9:30 PM.

I’m sitting at a rooftop bar with a Hugo Spritz in hand, listening to R&B, wearing my signature red lip, a fresh silk press, and a baddddd leopard dress.

The city lights are doing their thing.

The music is hitting.

And somewhere between the first sip and the second song, all I could think about was little Chynna.

Because this is a scene she used to see vividly.

Not necessarily this exact rooftop.

Not this exact drink.

Not even this exact dress.

But the feeling.

The confidence.

The femininity.

The freedom.

The woman she hoped she would become.

Life has a funny way of reminding you that some of your prayers have already been answered.

A few hours later, I randomly ran into Mr. Kryptonite and somehow ended up in his section. One of those moments that couldn’t have been planned if I tried.

And while the night was fun, the thing that stayed with me wasn’t who I saw or where I was.

It was the realization that I’ve been learning a new relationship with contentment.

For a long time, I thought contentment meant settling.

I thought it meant admitting defeat.

I thought it meant becoming comfortable with less than what I wanted.

But lately, I’m realizing that’s not what contentment is at all.

Contentment is being grateful for what exists while still believing in what’s possible.

It’s understanding that ambition and gratitude can sit at the same table.

It’s choosing to smell the roses while still planting seeds.

The roses didn’t bloom overnight.

Neither will the seeds.

But both deserve my attention.

I don’t have everything I want yet.

There are still goals I’m pursuing.

Still rooms I want to enter.

Still versions of myself I’m becoming.

But tonight reminded me that I don’t have to postpone joy until I arrive.

I don’t have to wait until the promotion.

The apartment.

The relationship.

The bank account.

The dream body.

The next chapter.

I can appreciate this chapter too.

The rooftop.

The music.

The drink.

The confidence.

The woman I’ve already become.

Sometimes we’re so focused on the next seed that we forget to acknowledge the garden we’ve already grown.

Tonight, I’m choosing both.

The seeds and the roses.

And I think little Chynna would be pretty proud of that.

What's something in your life today that a younger version of you would be proud to see?

Xoxo,
Chynna