If youāve ever met me in person, youād probably notice one thing pretty quicklyāIām not someone who naturally gravitates toward the spotlight. Ironically, being a Leo āļø, Iāve never loved being alone in videos or photos, I donāt enjoy posing, and Iāve spent most of my life quietly avoiding being the center of attention.
Iāve always preferred being behind the scenesāwriting, creating, thinking. Words on a page have always felt safer than words spoken out loud. Thereās something comforting about expressing yourself without a room full of eyes watching you.
But then⦠I became an author and suddenly, everything shifted. With my published book in hand, I found myself stepping into situations I had spent years steering clear of such as posing for photos with my book, smiling for the camera when all I wanted to do was laugh awkwardly and step aside š , and sitting in front of groupsāchildren and adultsāreading my story out loud into a microphone at a large, public park. All the things that once felt uncomfortable⦠became necessary.
My first real moment of āthereās no turning back nowā came at the Little BIPOC Book Festival in mid-March. It was exciting, meaningful, and honestlyāterrifying all at once. š There I was, surrounded by people, energy, and creativity. Instead of blending into the background, I was part of it – fully visible.
I remember holding my book, feeling both proud and slightly out of place at the same time. Smiling for photos, even though it didnāt feel natural. Reading aloud, even though my voice felt unfamiliar through a microphone. Looking out at a park full of faces, even though my instinct was to look down at the pages.
But something unexpected happened. The more I leaned into those uncomfortable moments, the more I realizedāthey werenāt about me. Instead, they were about connection, about the children listening with wide eyes and parents smiling along, and the quiet moments when someone walked up after and said, āThat was beautiful.ā
In those moments, it didnāt matter that I wasnāt a āphoto person,ā or I wasnāt naturally outgoing, or that I felt shy and out of place. What mattered most was the story and the impact it was making – about kindness and friendship.
Iāve learned that sometimes, growth doesnāt look like confidence right away. Sometimes, it looks like showing up anyway. It looks like taking the photo even when youād rather not, speaking into the microphone even when you feel a little anxious, and reading your words out loud, even when your voice feels shaky and unsure. Because on the other side of that discomfort⦠is something bigger than you.

Iām still not someone who loves being in front of the camera. I still feel a little nervous before I speak. And I still have moments where I wish I could just quietly stay in my comfort zone.
But I also know this:
If my story can bring joy, connection, or even a small moment of happiness to someone else⦠then stepping into the spotlightāeven brieflyāis 110% worth it.
So here I am. Still a little shy, still a little hesitant, but showing up anyway.
Maybe⦠thatās exactly where Iām meant to be. š©·šš¼





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