After 23 years, I finally returned to my homeland. Mind-blowing, isn’t it? My journey home made me think about the girl who left.
To my 18-year-old self , I offer these words.
Dear Jamie:
I know one of the hardest decisions you ever made was leaving the only home you knew, for a country you had never seen.
Just you.
One carry-on.
No family waiting.
Nowhere to land when you touched down at JFK.
And just $75 in your pocket.
I need you to know something…
I am immensely proud of the woman you became.
You broke many generational cycles, and transmuted generational trauma into generational triumph.
You ain’t just survive…
You changed shit.
You released shit.
You created shit.
You did shit.
You marked this world, and in many cases, you helped save it for someone else.
You really did that shit.
You bet on yourself when you were scared out of your mind.
You dreamed audaciously.
You lived boldly, unapologetically, unabashedly, unfathomably.
You executed relentlessly; even when you were exhausted, even when you were grieving, even when you doubted.
You did that shit!
And somehow, every time you leapt, something larger caught you.
Not luck.
Alignment.
Protection.
Grace.
The Universe met you at the edge of your courage because you showed up.
The Creator, your highest self, your ancestors and light-beings have always supported and protected you. You are indeed blessed.
Your professional résumé is stellar. Your cultural contributions are indelible. Your voice shifted conversations around Caribbean mental health before it was comfortable to do so. Your advocacy protected the vulnerable. Your motherhood reshaped legacy.
You are a pioneer in your own right. I celebrate you.
But here is what matters most: You chose elevation.
And your elevation required separation.
Separation from comfort.
From old identities.
From people who could not go where you were going.
From versions of yourself that no longer fit.
You lost things.
You grieved things.
You outgrew things.
You were challenged to learn new things.
And still, you rose.
You disrupted.
You manifested.
You elevated.
You raised a child.
You raised men.
You raised yourself.
And somewhere along the way, you learned that you never had to earn your worth. You were always enough. Even when you had nothing left to give.
Your story ain’t finished.
The real work… the deeper, freer, more honest work is only beginning.
And I am excited for you. For us.
Thank you for boarding that plane.
Thank you for trusting your instinct.
Thank you for honoring your truth, even when it cost you.
Thank you for getting it out the mud.
Thank you for unlearning some shit.
Thank you for freeing yourself from colonial conditioning and mental slavery.
Thank you for building a legacy of resilience, perseverance and triumph with your daughter and your village.
Mama Jay thanks you, Jamie. You did well, beloved.
To My 18-Year-Old Self: You Did That Shit!