The Year I Stopped Rehearsing My Life
Chapter One of a Boujee Little Memoir About Time, Imagination, and Becoming
By the time the moon slipped into its first dark of the year, I had already decided:
I wasn’t going to “get my life together.”
I was going to study it.
Not in a self-help workbook kind of way, but as an ongoing experiment: one year, one orbit, lived as a theory in motion.
I’ve come to accept that my life speaks to me in three languages.
