Letters Between Sundays

Then the flip switches.
We’re finally turned on.
The electricity is running, and the bill is high.

Imagine sticking your finger into a socket and your whole body absorbs the current. Suddenly you feel alive. Sparks run through every vein, lighting you up from the inside. It’s addicting. You chase it until you can’t run anymore—arms out, ready to grab the feeling and never let it go.

You’re unstoppable.
On top of the world.
Nothing can touch you.

Until the power shuts off again.

You realize you haven’t blinked in minutes. Your heart is racing. Ideas flood your brain so fast you can’t catch them all. Creativity sits in your fingertips, and the passion is explosive. Tabs open everywhere. Projects scattered across your desktop like confetti. You withdraw money you don’t even have because you feel like life is too short to wait.

People say you only live once.
But that’s false.
You live every day—
you only die once.

It’s strange how you can despise yourself one moment, yet stand with the confidence of a supermodel the next. It’s like being tugged in every direction by invisible hands, whispering that you’re invincible, glowing, unstoppable.

But then the lights start to flicker.
The power dims.
And you have no money left to turn it back on.

That’s when it hits—the halt, the crash, the brick wall you never saw coming.

The power is on now.
But the question always hangs in the air:

When will it go dark again?

It’s refreshing to learn something new about yourself, even when it stings a little. Today I realized that I always have a person. At first, I didn’t think much of it. Honestly, I thought it was cute and funny — like, “Awe, I always have somebody.” But my friend, who is wise and shockingly accurate about people, said something deeper: “You don’t know how to sit in your loneliness.” I didn’t know what she meant. I didn’t know if it was a bad thing, a good thing, or just a truth I hadn’t looked at yet. But as the day went on, it started weighing on my heart.

When I look back, it’s true — I’ve always had a person. Preschool? My childhood best friend. Middle school? My first little boyfriend. High school? My best friend for a while, then my senior-year boyfriend. Between all of that? My mom, my forever backup person. College? My roommate for a while, and now… still my mom. It’s not even that I need a person — it’s more like the people find me, or maybe I gravitate toward connection without realizing it.

Growing up, we lived in a house with no privacy. My family was always around, always together. Being alone wasn’t a thing, and being alone wasn’t normal. Maybe part of my “always having a person” comes from that — from childhood closeness, from the comfort of someone always being there. But I also think there’s a little insecurity and fear tucked inside it.

What surprised me is realizing I’m actually lonelier than I thought. Yes, I have a roommate. Yes, I have friends. Yes, I go home every week to see my mom. But when I strip all that away, the truth is: the only person who truly gets me is Jesus, and I sit with Him every day. Maybe I’ve always been a loner at heart — even while having “a person.” And here’s the twist: I do sit in my loneliness, a lot, and sometimes it feels peaceful, like I can finally breathe. I think the part of me that reaches for “a person” is really reaching for affection, attention, and love, which, honestly, is human.

I don’t think it’s wrong to have a person. People have best friends. People are close to their parents. People need connection — God created us that way. What matters is not using a person to fill the spaces only God is meant to fill or the spaces I need to learn to sit with on my own. I’m realizing loneliness isn’t the enemy. Sometimes it’s actually the place where God whispers the loudest.

Most people assume loneliness belongs to the ones who sit by themselves — the ones who eat alone, walk alone, study alone. But loneliness can happen even when you have a whole group, a roommate, a mom who answers every call, or even when you always have “a person.” We just have to remember to check in on the friends who seem fine — the ones who smile and laugh and appear surrounded. Because sometimes, they’re lonely too,

• This blog contains SA and personal experience

Women have been getting sexualized since eve ate the apple.

When were little girls, strange men in grocery stores would stare, saying to our mother ¨ oh she’s going to be driving the boys crazy when she gets older.¨ or ¨ Keep an eye out for this one! shes too pretty!¨ Writing this makes me feel like a liberal because some older folks wont find any harm in this, and to tell you the truth, there shouldn’t be. But men have made us their prey. Yes its not all men, but how do you know which ones?

When I was little, my Nana would tell me that I needed to go put on clothing that covers my body when Im around guys in the family, meaning, my moms boyfriend, my uncles, my brother and my cousins. This has taught me from a young age that what im wearing is a problem.

I was exposed to sex at a very young age. I went to a public school, so on the bus this boy ( whos name is still know) showed me how we are suppose to have sex and what it is. I was nine years old.

There was this girl, lets call her Shelby, she would show me these sex games and would usually be sexual towards me. I was pretty young, to the point of not knowing what was happening.

When being exposed at a very young age you have a different look on being sexualized and how to use sex at your advantage. My first boyfriend was when I was thirteen years old. Obviously we did stuff, since it was happening to me at a very young age, I just thought this is how people show there love to you.

I seen how men looked at me, I was a growing teen and a flaunted my body, for what reason? that is all that I knew. Maybe is was for attention, maybe is was to feel loved, I think deep down I was confused and needed to be loved.

High school hit and I lost a lot of weight, and my boobs got bigger and my butt also grew. This is when I started to feel uncomfortable with men staring at me. There was a incident with a student freshmen year, he was a senior it was during school. Was it my fault? was it because of my clothes? It was after my first class of the day..swimming. I blamed myself.

No matter where women go, we will always have to be on the look out. And what i have experienced, its not just guys. Its women too.

I started cheer in high school and we would always do these sleep overs, my mom never let me sleep over at someone’s house before. After that night I understood why. Was it my pajamas that made her do that to me? That night I called my mom to come pick me up, I never told her why.

Before coming to Christ, I knew a couple of things about be sexualized. I didn’t receive loved or attention if I was putting out. If someone wants to do something to me, let them because thats how they show there love, use your body to manipulate people and get what you want. I was broken and how of my mind when it came to sex. I was sleeping with random strangers, masturbating constantly, depressed all the time with all the hurt that I went threw. I thought I was a freak, how did I let all those things happen to me, what did I do? Why do men stare, why do men grab, why do men make dirty jokes or little comments about your body. Why do women think they can SA another girl and shrug it off like there was just ¨experimenting?¨ I was answering these question with the same answer. Because I was doing something wrong. But thats not true.

After giving my life to Christ, I know that none of that is my fault or theres. Its sin. After Adam and Eve ate the apple, sin was brought into the world and its lives in everyone. I had to learn that real love and protection, security come from God, not my body.

Today I went and got my nails done. The place I go to is run by a family owned company and theres Chinese, so they dont speak good english. A man did my nails today, and here is how it went. The whole time hes winking at me, licking his lips, and making faces at me. I smile and try not to make eye contact, I dont want to be rude. He asked for my name and I told him, he started to say it very sexual, and then he asked for my age. I told him Im twenty-one years old. While licking his lips and making tongue gestures he says ¨ Oh you might be to young but that okay.¨ I pretended like I couldn’t understand him, waiting to get up as soon as I can. Underneath the counter he presses his leg against mine. I was frozen like a statue, I honestly had no words. Luckily my mom came over to check on me to see how long I still had, I was thankful she did because he started to caress my arms and hands with oil, and my mom said no.

The point of this blog isn’t to tell my story and to get pity, but its for me to acknowledge that it can happen anywhere and everyone with anyone, and I always have to keep my guard up. I love being a women, but sometimes it has its down falls. Stay safe out there girlies xoxo