Well-Seasoned

Listen.
I drink matcha lattes, journal on linen paper, and own a serum that costs more than my Amazon Prime subscription.
And yet, if I smell Popeyes through my car window, it doesn’t matter where I intended to go.
I’m ending up at the drive-through.
You understand?

Some days I want oysters on crushed ice. Other days I want a biscuit so dry it holds my esophagus hostage.
Both are self-care.

I Contain Multitudes

I am a woman of many moods, many bags, and many email drafts that begin with “Per my last message.”
I am also someone who has confidently walked into Popeyes in 4-inch heels and a silk blouse like I was about to order champagne.

I did not.
I ordered the three-piece spicy with red beans, an extra biscuit, and two sauces. Because I’m layered. Like an onion. Like Beyoncé’s vocal arrangements.

I’ve given TED-style talks in blazers.
I’ve eaten fried shrimp out of a greasy paper bag in my car while Baby Boy played through the AUX.
I’ve cried at a symphony and gone home to eat Flamin’ Hot Cheetos like they were communion wafers.

There’s a lie they love to recite (especially to us women) that we have to pick one version of ourselves.
Classy or casual. Corporate or creative. Kale or Kool-Aid.
Nah.

I want to write my goals in gold ink while licking Cajun sparkle off my thumb.

Get What You Came For

Look.
It is perfectly okay to walk out of a Waffle House in a business suit while punches are being thrown in the background.
Like a movie.
Slow-mo.
The orange glow of the sign lighting your cheekbones.
A flying chair behind you, and you don’t even flinch.
Because you came for grits, not violence.
Because you can be both graceful and prepared to duck.

Duality is not a contradiction.
It’s a skillset.

In every environment, you thrive. And you go after what you want. Unapologetically.

Bougie Is in the Eye of the Biscuit Holder

My idea of luxury might be an Eames chair.
Or a 2 a.m. fried pie from the gas station that tastes like childhood and poor decisions.
Both hit.
Let me live.

I do skincare. I do slouch socks.
I do savings accounts and soul playlists.
I like velvet headboards and trap remixes of gospel songs.

Whether I’m eating oxtails off a Styrofoam plate or charcuterie on marble.
I manifest abundance. Every day.

The Moral?

You can be bougie and still go to Popeyes.
You can be “rising executive” and still eat off the hood of your car.
You can walk through the world like you own it, and still grab a 2-piece for $3.99 on your way home.

Let no one tell you your flavors must be separated.
You are well-seasoned.
And that is your special.