Boss Up or Blow Up
Why I Had to Stop Letting My Emotions Run the Show
I didn’t wear my emotions—I buried them.
I smiled. I nodded. I wore the mask that said, “I’m fine, it’s nothing. This will pass.”
I became a master at pretending peace while privately unraveling.
Because in my world, being strong meant being silent.
But silence has a way of stacking up. And one day, all those things I didn’t say, didn’t process, didn’t release—they exploded.
Not in conversations.
In meltdowns.
In silent shutdowns.
In mood swings I couldn’t explain and sadness I couldn’t shake.
And sometimes… in eating an entire Strawberry Shortcake from Sam’s Club just to feel something sweet when life felt bitter.
And here’s the worst part:
I wasn’t just mad at the people who didn’t see me.
I was mad at me for not speaking up. For knowing better but still choosing the mask.
💥 The First Time I Knew I Had to Change
The first time I realized I needed to change was when my youngest son was small.
That boy was into everything—and he could run. FAST.
He’d take off laughing because he knew I couldn’t catch him. And standing 5'2" at over 250 lbs, with knees that hated me, he wasn’t wrong.
It got to a point where I couldn’t get in the floor to play with my kids. Or if I did, I needed help getting back up.
And honestly? Sometimes I just stayed there… sitting in my sadness until somebody noticed.
Depression had me planted, and I didn’t even recognize myself anymore.
One day I just got tired.
Tired of feeling stuck. Tired of watching life happen without me in it.
I bought a treadmill off Craigslist (this was pre-Craigslist Killer movie—don’t judge me 😂), and at first? I didn’t even use it. I just turned it on… and stared.
Let it run.
I wasn’t ready—but I was close.
Eventually, I started walking five minutes a day. That turned into walking while watching a 30-minute TV show.
And before I knew it, I was deep in ShondaLand—running through Grey’s Anatomy, Scandal, and How to Get Away with Murder like I was training for the Olympics.
Three hours of TV.
Three hours of me time.
Three hours of healing in motion.
The first time I stepped on the scale, I was 248 lbs. And as the weight dropped, my confidence climbed.
Then one day… my son tried that getaway run again. But this time? Mama was ready.
I caught him.
I tickled him till he couldn’t breathe from laughing.
And in that moment, something in me caught up, too.
That was the day I got the strength to walk away from my first marriage.
Because I finally realized—I was worth it. My body was worth it. My peace was worth it. My life was worth it.
💭 That’s enough about me—let’s talk about you.
What parts of you have gone quiet trying to keep the peace?
What’s been sitting in the corner of your life, like that treadmill—waiting for you to stop staring and start stepping?
You don’t need a dramatic moment to decide you’re worth more.
You just need a true one.
Even the smallest step forward can wake something up inside you.
And when you start moving toward your own healing—grace will show up.
💜 With love + lipstick and strawberry shortcake crumbs,
Tavon J. 💄