There has been a lot unfolding behind the scenes, consistently, sometimes chaotically, always deeply.
Over the past year, I have been becoming a woman learning to carry grief and grace at the same time. A partner preparing for marriage. A student adjusting to a demanding new rhythm. A professional stepping into a new industry. And someone who, while not always vocal online, was fully present in the thick of real life. There was barely room to reflect, let alone write but I am here now, with more clarity than I have had in a while.
On June 25, 2024, I was laid off from my job. That moment rewired something in me. I had been operating at full speed for so long, with goals, deadlines, and deliverables, and suddenly, it all stopped. What came next was a stretch of time that forced me to sit with uncertainty, loss, and the unfamiliar rhythm of slowing down.
Not long after the layoff, I lost my Granny. She had been living in Trinidad, and although I was in the United States, we remained deeply connected. She raised me at different points of my life in both New York and Trinidad and had been battling Parkinson’s disease for more than ten years. Her passing hit me in a way I still cannot fully explain. Shortly after, I flew to Trinidad to say goodbye. That trip… I felt everything. I remembered everything. And I realized just how much of me came from her.
At the same time, I was also trying to hold space for my mom as she processed the loss of her mother. Their relationship spanned two countries, decades, and a quiet complexity I may never fully understand. But grief does not care about borders. I was mourning my Granny while also trying to be a steady place for my mom to land. That emotional weight is hard to put into words, but it shaped me.
Meanwhile, David and I were transitioning back to North Carolina after a year in Arizona, a chapter we will always cherish. It gave us a kind of peace and perspective we did not even know we needed you know. But coming home meant starting again in more ways than one.
By August, I started an accelerated master’s program at Duke. It began with a bootcamp, then shifted into a steady rhythm. Classes on campus one Friday and Saturday a month, usually during the last week, from 8 to 5. On the second Saturday of each month, I also joined a full day Zoom session of classes. It took some time to find my flow, especially juggling everything else that was unfolding in real time.
From July through October, I applied to job after job, hoping to return to the industry in a new capacity. I got my hopes up more times than I can count, only to feel let down just as quickly. Still, deep down, I did not believe it was rejection. I knew it was redirection. I was being refined.
I asked God to order my steps, lead me to what’s next for me.
Around that time, David’s mom offered me a position to work with one of her clients in an assisted living facility, someone living with vascular dementia. After losing my Granny and my job, there I was, caregiving. It grounded me. It reminded me to slow down. It gave me perspective. And it made me reflect on how deeply we can care for others while still learning how to care for ourselves.
In November, after four rounds of interviews, I received an offer for a role in pharma, an adjacent space to the CRO world I came from, but with new language, new processes, and a fresh learning curve. Within two months, I was promoted into an executive role, earning figures I used to pray for. I stepped into a new chapter. Not because it was easy, but because the preparation was already in motion. God’s plan.
There were also parts of my story that I had to own, choices I made that did not reflect the person I am or the relationship I am in. Some of it rooted in grief, some in curiosity, and some in the hard truth that I was still figuring out how to carry it all.
Eventually, I told the truth. We sat with things that were hard to say out loud and even harder to hear. But what came from that was real. A deeper understanding. A painful, necessary reset. And a renewed choice to stand beside each other, fully seen. Not perfect, but committed. Not polished, but real.
And all of this….the grief, the emotional balancing, the rebuilding, the growth, was happening while we planned our wedding. Two months out, and somehow, we are making it all work. Quietly. Intentionally. Fully.
Today is July 19. I am heading to Germany for work. I am thriving in my career, learning every week in my graduate program, and preparing to marry my best friend. Sometimes I pause and think, is this really my life?It is. And it is all because God held me through the dark, the doubtful, and the deeply humbling.
He reminded me that real work happens when no one is watching. That being still is part of the becoming.
So if you have been wondering where I have been, just know I have been living. Not perfectly. Not loudly. But fully. And for now, in this moment… that is more than enough.
Thanks for stopping by.
Love,
Chelsea
