This is 28

I was not sure if I was going to write to you about 28.

28 is new. 28 is complicated. 28 marks exactly one year without my Lonnie, and feelings are naturally allover the place.

A friend asked me how I spent my 28th birthday, and I realised though nothing was initially planned, it was actually quite beautiful. Even while I am missing my Lonnie quite deeply, more in this season than usual, I am reminded she would want me joyful, and dancing.

My mother’s last words to me

Considering I often do imagery for my birthday, I wanted only one photo for my birthday: flowers in hand, Manhattan behind me. I was going to go to the grocery store, and ask Marcus to take a photo of me by his window. That plan did not work out, as I started my birthday with back to back meetings, and did not get a chance to buy the flowers or take the picture.

I left to grab for lunch with T’Sean at the Centurion Lounge, and to my surprise, he showed up, flowers in hand. We sat on the 55th floor, my back to Manhattan, and he took a photo, and voila!

28 found me feeling small. My relocation to New York saw me shrinking – becoming a ‘less’ version of myself in efforts to ‘fit in’. Conquering a city as big as this is every inch of humbling.

In many ways my relocation from Malawi to New York felt a lot like my move from home (Mangochi) to Lilongwe. I moved to Lilongwe with est two bags, and built a really great life from scratch. I moved to New York with est two bags, and I am building a great life from scratch. I won before, and I intend to win again.

28 finds me taking up room. 28 finds me bold. 28 finds me feeling phenomenal.

This is 28. 💕

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