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Breastfeeding has been a constant in my motherhood journey, and honestly, I never expected it to last this long. Now that we’re stepping into the next chapter, I’m noticing all the emotional, hormonal, and quietly disorienting effects of letting go of something that’s been such a part of my daily life.

You may be thinking—this doesn’t apply to me. I’m not a breastfeeding mama, or maybe not a mama at all, or long past this part of the story. But I’m really sharing about transition in general, and that’s something we can all relate to. The in-between, the unfamiliar, the moments when you feel off—but life is still happening, and you still need to show up.

In this episode, I also walk through four intentional ways I’m navigating this season of change:

1. Staying supported

2. Reflecting and documenting in real time

3. Being honest with the people who love me

4. Letting myself feel it

Pull up a chair and sit with me as I talk openly about what it feels like to be in transition—and what it’s teaching me about resilience, presence, and self-compassion.

I would love to hear your feedback! Respond here, DM me on Instagram, or even email me—let me know what landed for you.

I have wanted to write to you all for several weeks and, as tempting as it has been, I refused to speak my thoughts into ChatGPT to get it done faster. I am intentionally slowing down to tell you how I have been doing and what I have been up to, so follow me. It won’t be perfect, but here it goes…

Let’s go back two months—January 6, 2026.

I woke up on the morning of my six-year anniversary at my job and sat on the side of my bed with the blackout blinds still closed, but a little bit of light still peeking in through the cracks.

I thought, “Wow, it’s been six years… and I should feel excited. This should feel like a milestone—but it doesn’t. I feel… nothing, really.”

I already knew that it had been time (for a long time) for me to move on. However, this morning I could feel that feeling deep in my bones, and I knew that I needed to ask God for something very specific if I was going to be in this role for any longer. I was going to need something very specific to sustain me any further, because I was slowly clocking out emotionally a little more every single day.

So, I prayed:

“God, please change my heart. Position my heart to not feel miserable with my job. Give me the motivation that I need to become more proactive and find something new intentionally.”

I was waiting for the right lead. I had some promising conversations over the past several months and two or three interviews that went nowhere. But if I am honest, I was not really putting my effort toward taking steps consistently.

What I was doing consistently was praying and writing in my journal about how I was no longer happy. I was writing about what I actually wanted. I was asking God to make it clear when the time was right. I was writing it down and making it plain.

That morning of January 6th, though, I felt a clear message say: “If you want something new, you have to MOVE.”

So, I did. I blocked out some time on my calendar to take my lunch and update my resume and LinkedIn.

This is when it got interesting…

After I updated my resume, I got on LinkedIn from my desktop and looked at my profile views (something I rarely did). That is when I saw that a Co-Founder had looked at my page before the holidays. I went to her page and was intrigued by what I was reading. The company she founded was so interesting, and wha

t was more interesting… they were hiring in Houston for ONE PERSON.

The role sounded exactly like me, but it also sounded intimidating—like a big challenge. But it felt like the kind of challenge that lit me up. So, I applied.

The rest is history.

By January 23rd (my late Grandmother’s birthday), I had finished three interviews, an offer, a counter-offer, and accepted a new role at a startup to help them expand to the Houston market.

It’s been a month this week that I have been in this new role.

• A career pivot at 36 that I was not expecting.

• Working for a startup for the first time in my life.

• Exciting and meaningful work that (so far) feels so aligned with exactly what I have been diligently asking God for.

I no longer feel apathy and disconnection. My nervous system is slowly recalibrating to a new environment filled with mostly other parents, doing work that helps meet parents where they are—solving a problem that so many can relate to.

So, that is a quick snapshot of what I have been up to: navigating life and the many pivots within.

Looking Ahead: The Mama’s Bag

While I have been settling into this new role, I have also been thinking about The Mama’s Bag. I had such a time with you all in December and am really looking forward to getting together again soon.

Right now, I do not have the capacity to plan a big shindig, but I was thinking maybe a Spring meetup. Park date? Lunch in City Centre? Something easy. Let me know what you guys think and I will get something set on the calendar soon!

Just reply back here with your preference on the options below. While you’re at it, let me know what you have been up to.

I truly hope that in the midst of the chaos going on in this place we call home (America), you are doing something to keep your mind and body safe and well. Don’t let it consume you.

That’s all for now y’all—take care and talk soon!

Vote below…

The holidays came and completely threw me off my gym rhythm and my running rhythm, even though I had been very consistent for months, which I was proud of. I was feeling discouraged knowing that I had signed up for a race. I kept thinking, wow, my body feels stiff. I’m sure all my progress has probably dwindled because I haven’t been running consistently for the past four weeks.

So when I showed up for that race today and finished my 3.1 miles in 47 minutes and 42 seconds, I was honestly almost in disbelief.

I knew I was going to finish the race. I just didn’t think I was going to finish it in less than 60 minutes, I thought I would be in the 50s. I had already planned to run slowly. I was not going to tire myself out at the beginning. I knew it would be a slow race, and that was intentional. But even my slow race was faster than I thought it was going to be.

And I think there’s a lesson in that, especially at the start of a new year. Some people will hit the ground sprinting, going full steam as fast as they can, and that’s okay. That might be the season they’re in. But if this isn’t your sprinting season, if this is your slow, steady, easy-run season, then don’t burn yourself out trying to keep up with everyone sprinting past you. Running your race at the pace your body can sustain still gets you to the finish line.

I don’t know, I just feel so encouraged and inspired by that. I feel like there’s a message here about how God can surprise us when we keep our focus on our own race.

There were moments, I’m not going to lie, when I was intimidated by all the faster people passing me. I thought to myself a few times, oh my goodness, I’m going to be one of the last ones finishing this race. And then I reminded myself, so what if you are? Because you’re finishing. My husband reminded me of that too before the race. He told me, all that other stuff will come. Your goal is to finish.

With that goal in mind, I made a challenge to myself during the race. I did not look back. Not once. Not one time did I look over my shoulder. Not one time did I concern myself with what people behind me were doing. I looked ahead. I gave myself goals. If you can just get to that stop sign, you can do it. If you can just get to that cone. If you can just get to that tree, keep going. It’s okay. Stop for a second. Don’t stop. Just walk. Catch your breath. Keep going.

That’s how I talked to myself the entire time.

And before I knew it, I saw the sign that said I had one mile left. That invigorated me. In that moment, I decided to really dial in. I listened to a song that reminded me of my late brother-in-law, Justin. He really loved “Keep on Rolling” by King George. And even though that song is not about running, LOL, I kept on rolling through my race, digging really deep and trusting my body.

I felt so proud of myself when I finished.

Back in May, when I said I wanted to be a runner, I was really curious about what a runner’s high was. What is this feeling runners describe? And I’m so happy to know that I’ve found out what that is. Running puts you in your own zone. It lifts your spirits in a way I honestly haven’t experienced from anything else. And God knows I never thought I would think it was fun. I used to hate running. It felt like a punishment, but now it feels like a privilege, especially as my body continues to mature and change.

Running. Mobility. These are privileges.

Like many people, it’s hard out here right now. Financial strain and pressure, changing dynamics at work, and trying to still create joy and live in the moment without living in fear, especially as so many things feel out of control in the world around us.

As my birthday approaches, we first have to touch Christmas. I used to dread the holidays. As an adult, I’ve been able to unpack why that was and I’ve grown and healed from a lot of it. Now, I’m trying to create new meaning around the holidays, especially now that I’m a mom.

I want my son to have a beautiful childhood filled with memories that show his parents were intentional about creating pockets of joy. I want him to focus on wonder for as long as possible. I want him to feel safe, warm, and loved in this season of life.

But that’s not actually what I want to talk about.

I want to talk about having the audacity to paint your nails a different color.

I recently got a pedicure, and since it’s Christmas time, I decided to do something festive. It might be basic to some people, but I chose a bright red. Normally, I go for a milky white on my toes because it lasts longer as they grow out. It feels practical. Put together. Safe.

Another reason I avoid red is because I’ve always felt like it just doesn’t look good on me.

But something shifted. I realized that wasn’t even true. And here I am, walking around in flip flops a few days before Christmas (hello, Texas) with bright red toes. I actually love this shade of OPI, and I’m really proud of myself for stepping outside my comfort zone and savoring the season.

Am I going to wear red polish all the time? No.

Am I going to wear it three days before Christmas? Absolutely.

And I’m going to enjoy it.

In that same vein, I always say I’m not a baker. Yet lately I’ve had this desire to bake and create sweet treats. I haven’t gone fully from scratch yet, but I found a cinnamon roll cake recipe on TikTok that I want to try.

I’m baking my own birthday cake.

So instead of buying another store bought cake that doesn’t excite me, I’m leaning into what I actually desire.

This season, I’m allowing myself to be free as I step into this next chapter, with a few things grounded in my heart.

I am enough.

I am enough even when resources feel scarce. My worth is not attached to what I have. My worthiness exists because God says I am enough.

I still have something to give. I have creativity. I have joy. I have laughter. I have a home. And if opening my doors is the most generous thing I can do right now, that is enough.

I know this is easier said than done. I’m not trying to paint a picture of toxic positivity. What I am encouraging, gently and honestly, is focusing on what we do have instead of what we don’t.

Because that is exactly where the enemy, however you define it, wants our attention. On lack. On fear. On comparison. And that’s just not the name of the game.

I don’t know why I felt compelled to share this, except to remind you that if painting your toes red is the most joyful thing you do this week, do it. And don’t forget that you are enough.

Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. And happy birthday to my fellow Capricorns.

P.S. For anyone wondering, the nail polish color is OPI Emmy, have you seen Oscar? and yes, it’s absolutely star quality.

We are officially counting down to A Season to Savor with The Mama’s Bag on December 18th!

I cannot wait to gather with women who are ready to breathe a little deeper, slow down, and create space for themselves in the middle of this holiday rush.

And because I love a little fun and reflection, I’m giving away one free ticket to the event.

How to Enter:

Reply to this email or send a message to TheMamasBag@gmail.com sharing two things:

1. How you plan to savor this season.

2. What you are grateful for in this season.

Your email counts as your entry.

All entries must be submitted by December 10.

Winner Announcement:

I’ll do a random drawing on December 12 and contact the winner directly with the event details.

See you soon!

V.

This morning was chaotic in the most familiar way.

Small argument with my husband about something tiny. Trying to get out the door at noon and somehow not leaving until one. The kitchen is a disaster from my husband making the mac and cheese. Toys are everywhere in the living room. And all I could think was how much I hate coming home to a messy house after a long day out.

But as I grabbed my purse and rushed out the door, I whispered one word to myself. Gratitude.

Right in that moment I felt this wave of perspective hit me. I am blessed to have both my parents and both my sisters to rush over to. I have a brother in love and sweet nephew too! I am blessed to have a husband who can get on my nerves sometimes, but make me smile soon after. I am blessed to have a son whose little toys cover the floor because he is here, growing, and loved.

My life is full. Overflowing even.

So what if I am late. Who is even keeping time?

Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

May today remind you of what matters and give you a quiet breath of gratitude right in the middle of the mess.

-V.

I hope it reminds you to let your people hold you.

I felt completely vulnerable, pitiful, and even relieved to just be letting it out.

But I also felt alone and I cried harder when I realized that I needed someone.

I cried harder when I realized that I just needed to call my Daddy, so - I did.

I cried hysterically as I poured my overwhelm out to my Dad over the phone.

I sniffed and did that little hiccup cry that little kids do when they have been crying hard.

I just told the truth without trying to mask like a big girl.

I cried and told my dad exactly what I needed at that moment.

I did not need him to fix what I was feeling, I just needed him to pray over me.

So, I asked for what I needed and he stopped whatever he was doing on the other end and he prayed for me asking God to wrap me in peace and comfort.

My breathing began to slow.

I took some deep breaths.

At one point I even put the phone on mute so that I could blow my nose.

I listened as my Dad comforted me and reassured me on the other end of the phone.

Then I told him that I had to go because my friend had just pulled up and we were getting ready to have our coffee shop meet up.

He said okay and we hung up the phone.

I grabbed my sunglasses and I grabbed my fanny pack - I hopped out the car meeting my friend in the parking lot with a hug.

She hugged me and said, “how are you?” –and without even thinking about it, I said I was good.

Then I asked her and she said, “eh, you know…” and her honesty called me to go back and edit my response.

Girl, you are not good. 47 seconds ago you were just sobbing in the car to your dad.

So, I edited myself. “The truth is I was just crying in the car.”

What happened next was a 2 hour long exchange between friends over chai lattes and a long walk around the lake.

Two hours of telling the truth.

Sharing some laughs.

Sharing some tears.

Sharing some encouragement.

Some shifts in perspective.

Some healing.

It is okay to sob and tell the truth when someone asks you how you are doing.

It’s okay to lean on your people and tell them what you need even if they do not have the ability to immediately fix what is going on.

Just like that, God gave the peace and comfort that my dad had just prayed for.

I was wrapped in the assurance that everything is okay - even when everything is not exactly okay, and that is okay.

That is why I will always advocate for being in community.

We need each other and we need to tell the truth when the right people ask.

Let them hold you too.

“Your iPhone storage is almost full.”

And, like I always do, I rolled my eyes and went to check what was taking up the most space. Photos. Messages. Notes. Music. All the things I love most, and also all the things I can’t seem to let go of.

So I started deleting. Screenshots I didn’t need. Duplicates of pictures. Random downloads from who knows when. Trying to clear space, trying to increase capacity.

But somewhere in that process, I made one wrong move and deleted everything in my Notes app.

Notes that went back years. Notes from when I was pregnant. Notes of dreams, grocery lists, plans, prayers, and random midnight thoughts that somehow all mattered. The letter I wrote to my grandmother on her birthday in 2016 and never printed. Gone.

And my heart sank.

It wasn’t just about losing digital files. It was the weight of realizing how much I’ve been holding on to, not just on my phone but in my life. The same way I hoard screenshots and half-written ideas, I hold on to emotions, memories, and moments that feel too sacred to delete.

So there I was, panicking, searching for a way to undo it all. And somehow, through iCloud backups and a little grace, I managed to get my notes back. Every single one of them.

But after everything was said and done, I realized something else.

All of my messages were gone.

And I’m the type of person who keeps messages. Long threads of conversations. Happy birthdays. Random check-ins. Because when you’ve lost people you love, those words become sacred. You start to think, what if this is all I have left? And you cling to it.

I’ve held on to old texts the same way I’ve held on to people I’ve already had to let go of. Because when someone’s gone, those messages feel like proof that they were here, that what you shared was real.

But this time, there was no backup. No way to restore them.

And that hit me. Because maybe that’s how life works sometimes. Some things come back. Some don’t. And the loss still stings, but it doesn’t mean the memory is gone.

Maybe that’s what the Spirit was trying to show me. That my remembering is enough. That even when I don’t have the tangible proof, my heart knows. My body knows. And that’s what counts.

We hold on so tightly to things — digital clutter, emotional baggage, relationships, stories — because the chaos feels safe. It feels like control. But maybe the real invitation is to trust that what’s meant to remain doesn’t need proof to exist.

So yes, my notes came back. But my messages didn’t. And somehow, that felt symbolic.

Because not everything that’s deleted is meant to be recovered. Some things are meant to stay gone, to make space for what’s next.

And maybe that’s the message in all this. When that little notification pops up — whether on your phone or deep in your spirit — saying, “Your storage is almost full,” it’s not just a warning. It’s an invitation.

An invitation to release, to make room, to trust that even if you lose a few things along the way, what’s meant for you will always be backed up by grace.

And in some ways, it did strip me. There is grief in that. There are freedoms I miss, small luxuries of solitude and spontaneity that once felt ordinary but now feel rare. But what I have learned is that the stripping was not about losing. It was about making room.

Motherhood did not leave me empty. It created space for something new and abundant. The life I had before is not less than this one, but this one is no less full. They are simply different. And in that difference, I have found fulfillment I once feared I would never know.

This season has stretched me. It has expanded my heart in ways I could not have imagined. God has used motherhood to strengthen what was already strong and to gently expose what still needs growth.

It has also deepened my womanhood. I feel more beautiful, more sure, and more in tune with myself than I have ever been. I am living in the essence of who I have always wanted to be. I have always been nurturing, gentle, and grounded, and becoming a mother did not create those qualities in me. It revealed them. It is who I already was that shaped the mother I am, not the other way around.

It has also changed the way I see my husband. There is a light in him that only fatherhood could reveal. Watching him grow in that role has brought a new tenderness to our marriage, a shared awe that feels sacred.

And then there is our son, our mirror. He reflects back the best of us and sometimes the hardest parts too. He reminds me daily that patience is a practice and that love is a muscle we build one moment at a time.

I am learning to savor this season. Not because it is easy, but because it is sacred. Because in the middle of the chaos and the growing pains, there is beauty blooming everywhere.

This gathering is for the mamas, aunties, and friends to slow down, connect, and celebrate the gift of community.

GET YOUR TICKET & reserve your seat!

Your ticket includes:

• A pour of The Board Room’s local Sauvignon John wine

• A custom charcuterie tower to indulge your taste buds

• Guided conversation and connection intended to fill you up on a soul level with The Mama’s Bag Collective

• Supporting hungry families this season

A portion of the proceeds will be donated to a local food bank so that we mamas can do our part in feeding the community.

Space is very limited, so I encourage you to reserve your seat at the table today. I cannot wait to share this evening of warmth, laughter, and meaningful connection with you.

Reserve your spot here: A Season to Savor with The Mama’s Bag

At first, I had that rushed attitude we all get when we’re calling customer service, ready to get it done, set the appointment, and move on with my day. I wasn’t really in the mood for small talk. But after a few minutes, I got transferred to another representative named Kayla, and something about that moment let me know she was exactly who I was meant to talk to today.

It felt different, and I’m so glad I didn’t rush through it. I’m even glad I got transferred to her and not somebody else.

What started as a routine call turned into an hour-long conversation. Any other time, I probably would’ve complained about being on the phone that long with customer service, but the truth is, about 35 minutes of that call was just us connecting and kiking about motherhood. We laughed about how boys can be little sour patch kids at the toddler stage — sweet one minute and a whole handful the next — and how it’s such a blessing nonetheless.

She told me about her 5-year-old starting kindergarten this year, the mix of excitement and emotions that come with that milestone. I shared a little about my son and what life looks like right now in the thick of toddlerhood. Somewhere in between our stories, I mentioned The Mama’s Bag.

By the end of the call, Kayla had subscribed to my newsletter. She’s not even in Texas, but that’s the beauty of it, connection has no borders.

And before we hung up, she shared a gospel song with me. The song was about God’s protection, which felt so fitting and ironic considering the call was originally about home security. It was one of those quiet, divine winks that remind you there’s more happening beneath the surface.

We’re living in times where things can feel uncertain and scary, but moments like today remind me that we can lean into each other. We can still find comfort and connection, even in unexpected places.

And here’s what really hit me after I hung up:

So often as creatives, we worry about whether people will understand or support what we’re building. Sometimes we even hold this odd idea that other people will spread the word for us, that somehow, others will tell our story before we do.

But the truth is, you have to open your mouth about your own creation. You have to speak on what’s important to you, because no one can tell your story the way you can. And you can’t let those juicy, organic opportunities pass you by without saying something.

Today was an example of that. A simple, real conversation that reminded me that every interaction matters. Every time you share what you’re passionate about, it plants a seed, and connection grows from there.

And there’s something else I keep thinking about. Something magical happens when you’re being exactly who you are, at all times. I could tell that Kayla was being exactly who she is. Something about authenticity transcends any medium, even through a customer service call. That’s the kind of beauty we don’t always get anymore. So many of our interactions are digital and behind screens, but even though we couldn’t see each other, that real-time connection felt so refreshing.

What I’m doing with The Mama’s Bag is bigger than me. I’m on assignment to build community for moms, one honest conversation at a time.

Sometimes, purpose doesn’t show up with a grand announcement. It shows up while you’re calling to set up a security system, chatting with a stranger who ends up feeling like a friend.

I hung up smiling, reminded that I’m on the right track, doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.

It was so lovely connecting with you, Kayla. Thank you for sharing your light, your song, and for joining the community!

I get it. I get the judgment, because truthfully, I once held it too. I didn’t understand it. I had never seen it up close. And let’s be real, in a world that constantly objectifies Black women’s bodies, it can feel almost foreign to see breastfeeding for what it truly is: nourishment, comfort, and connection for the baby and the mama too.

The reason I’m specifically talking to Black mamas right now is because for a lot of us, this is not something we grew up seeing. Especially when you understand the historical context of what breastfeeding has meant for Black women. If you’re not familiar with that, I encourage you to look it up.

But I see you choosing this path anyway. I see you holding your babies close even when the side-eyes come, even when the questions start. And I just want to say… good job.

At over two years in, my body still produces milk, something I didn’t even expect. But it reminds me every day that this is what my body was designed to do. And when nothing else soothes my son, especially when he’s sick, I’m grateful that I can still give him something only I can.

We’ve been slowly weaning for months, and now we’re nearing the end of this chapter. I just want to honor what I’ve been able to do, and honor you too.

And while this message is for the mamas who have continued breastfeeding, it’s not about excluding anyone. Every mama does what she feels is best for her baby, and that alone deserves respect and celebration.

Because sometimes all a mama needs to hear is, “You’re doing great.”

It’s wild to think that almost nine years have passed since then. A lot has changed. I’ve grown, I’ve accomplished many of the goals I once dreamed about, and most importantly, I’ve become a Mama. Life feels more grounded now. I’m in a different season — and honestly, I guess you could say I’m in my bag now.

That’s where The Mama’s Bag comes in. This is a new chapter, but it carries the same heart and spirit that Glittered in Goals had. It’s still about community, encouragement, and creating space for women to show up as their full selves. The difference is that now, it’s even more personal, and it’s rooted in the life I’m living right now.

So whether you were part of the original Glittered in Goals family or you’re just finding me for the first time, I want to invite you to join me in this next evolution.

What’s Coming Up

In this space, you can expect the podcast, newsletter exclusives, and in-person gatherings to come together.

We will be kicking things off in December with a holiday-themed meetup, followed by a Galentine’s gathering in February. After that, we plan to continue hosting bi-monthly meetups designed to build connection and community.

If this sounds like something you want to be part of, hit Subscribe. You’ll get:

• Personal notes from me

• Newsletter-only stories and encouragement

• First access to our community calendar and updates

Welcome to the bag!

— V. 🖤