ouch.

Over the past few years, the idea of a soft life has become increasingly appealing to black women. The idea of laying down our capes, picking up our heads and watering our plants has become a welcomed alternative to the busy and often exhausting lives we’ve been conditioned to live.  

I remember moving back to Atlanta in the fall of 2023, looking forward to slowing down and finding a soft place to snuggle up. Here’s the thing, nobody warned me that on the way to a soft life, there would be a bumpy ride, and surprisingly, a hard landing. 

I remember dreaming about, praying for, and working towards the life I currently live. I just knew it was what was missing in my life, the secret to making me happy. I quit my job, started my own practice, created my own schedule, moved back to the city I always wanted to live in, broke up with my cheating boyfriend, moved into a 3rd floor apartment with a fireplace and a balcony that sat amongst the trees. You know, all the simple and soft things. 

And I was lonely. Unhappy. Lost. Confused. And what makes matters worse, I was even more exhausted than before.  

Soft life. Bumpy ride. Hard landing. 

In church recently, my pastor spoke about distractions and the effect they have on our lives. He shared a quote that stuck out to me, “If you don't have a plan to deal with distraction, distraction will make a plan to deal with you.” He went on to explain how we often believe that if we are busy, we will be distracted, when it's when we are divided that we are most distracted. 

And there, hidden in one seemingly small word, was the root of my problem. The unexpected biproduct of a soft life. Divided. 

Division: noun 

1. the action of separating something into parts or the process of being separated. 

2. disagreement between two or more groups, typically producing tension or hostility. 

 I have a 3rd definition of my own; division: the result of my quest for a soft life.  

What I did not consider when choosing the soft life, were the thoughts, emotions, and memories that would come to the surface when my life slowed down and got quiet. When you leave the rat race and free up time in your schedule, the things that you didn’t have time to address before find all the time in the world to come up. 

But you have clients to help heal. And family who need you. And friendships to try to make. And church to attend. Trainings to do, and a business to grow, and... 

Wait, weren’t we supposed to be slowing down? 

That’s the thing, more free time doesn’t automatically translate to a soft life; a lesson I had to learn the hard way. When I was working 40- and 50-hour weeks I thought the problem was obvious, I was spending so much time working that I was too exhausted to live. 

But what happens when more time means less money. When working for yourself means more things to figure out on your own. When working from home means a lack of interaction with the outside world. Being diagnosed with PCOS means gaining 30 pounds and being constantly fatigued. Here’s where you take a deep breath, because you realize it's still a lot to juggle. Not so soft after all. 

I began filling the spaces with YouTube videos and Tubi movies. The sound of other people talking gave the illusion of being less alone. My social anxiety made moving to a new city a form of purgatory and isolation. There was no way to create connections that did not require me to put myself out there in a way that was extremely uncomfortable. 

I began to have so many realizations, all at once. 

I realized I was in a body I was unfamiliar with and felt like a stranger in my own skin. 

I realized the Atlanta I lived in a decade ago has drastically changed. 

I realized that for the first time in my life, I was single single. 

No toxic exes that I could still call whenever I was lonely. I looked around, and it was just me. Alone.  

Soft life. Hard landing. 

So, I've decided to do what I know well; write.  

In hopes to encourage myself to create the life I want to live.  

To appreciate the life, I have 

And allow me to sit with the discomfort and heal through the hard landing.  

I’m determined to live the soft life I truly deserve. 

Here is my open letter to both my past and future self. A journal for my present self. And my gift to every other black woman who is trying to create a life that doesn’t hurt so much and leaves you feeling full and not constantly depleted.  

I’ll go first and create the play book along the way. 

Welcome to my journey of creating a soft life and finding tools to use for the times it gets hard again. 

Asé.