16 | Simone
The months after Samaj left felt strange.
Not bad. Not good. Just… different. I was emotionally drained and frustrated with how things ended, but I made a promise to myself: no drowning, no spiraling, no replaying the breakup scene in my head like it was a movie I refused to stop watching.
My life had never been wrapped up in a man, and I wasn’t about to let it be wrapped up in one now.
I was going to heal and live intentionally.
So, I built a new routine. A quiet one. A God-centered one.
Campus was buzzing with everyone stressing about senior year, internships, and graduation plans. I still had a lot on my plate, but I wasn’t agreeing to every request, jumping on every opportunity, or saying yes to everyone who asked me for something.
This was huge for me. People relied on me heavily and were used to me saying yes, offering my assistance or solving their problems, which resulted in me spreading myself too thin. Slowly but surely, I was finding my voice and setting my boundaries, and it felt really good.
Our Faith & Femininity Club met on campus every Thursday evening in this pretty room with floor-to-ceiling windows. We would gather around usually over food and drinks and discuss the next community event, play games, or have bible study.
“Hey, this meeting is going to be a little different today.” All of the ladies, about sixteen or so, took a seat around the room and gave me their undivided attention. And for a second, I almost backed out. Because right now I was about to expose myself in a way I’ve never done before.
Over the last few weeks of sitting quietly with the Lord, He’s been dealing with me and some of the things I’ve been carrying over the years that I haven’t fully surrendered to Him.
“There’s something I feel led to share. Things I’ve been silently struggling with.”
The room grew quiet. Curious expressions were on everyone’s face.
“I’ve always been labeled the goody two-shoes,” I continued, letting out a small, nervous laugh. “The straight-A student who all the teachers loved. The church girl who never disobeyed her parents or got into trouble. I’m the responsible and dependable one that everyone confides in.” I paused.
“But the truth is… I don’t have it all together and I fall short just like everybody else. But when I do? I’m hard on myself.” A few girls nodded like they could relate.
“I’ve been struggling with showing up as my best self. Keeping up this perfect image is exhausting. I’m not perfect and will never be.” I looked around the room and could see the support of my girls.
“I’m used to struggling in silence and I don’t want to do that anymore. So… I’d like to open up and share with you all because the encourager needs encouragement right now” Not a single judgmental expression from anyone.
“We got you sis.” Alaia said.
“I struggle with saying ‘No’ to people,” I admitted.
“I overextend myself because I don’t want to disappoint anyone.
I think a lot if it comes from losing my parents when I was twelve.
I’m only now realizing I do a lot of the people- pleasing because I’m afraid of being left.
I also hate conflict so sometimes it’s hard for me to speak up or stand up for myself.
” I took a deep breath before continuing.
“Ok now this last one is a big one for me,” I hesitated for a split second then pushed through.
“Sometimes I struggle with self-pleasure.”
The words hung in the air.
For a moment no one spoke then Kiara leaned forward her eyes wide in amazement but warm.
“Wow, Simone…” she said gently. “I would’ve have guessed that about you.”
She shook her head slightly. “You carry yourself with so much grace and class. I always saw you as someone who had it all figured out.”
I gave a small, self-conscious smile.
“Definitely don’t,” I murmured.
“Thank you for being transparent,” she continued. “For real. That takes courage. And… I struggle with some of those same things too.”
Her honesty seemed to unlock something in the room.
Another girl—Tasha—shifted in her seat. “I do too,” she said quietly.
“The saying no part? That’s me all day. I’ll be overwhelmed, tired, and still say yes because I don’t want people to feel like I’m letting them down.
I’m the oldest of five and I’ve always felt like I had no choice because if I didn’t do it, who else would? ”
A few murmurs of agreement spread through the group.
“And the self-pleasure thing…” she added, lowering her voice slightly, “that’s something I’ve been battling in private. I feel ashamed, but no matter how hard I try to stop I fall back into it. It’s not talked about enough, but it’s real.”
“I’m in the same boat,” Noelle chimed in.
“My boyfriend and I decided to wait for marriage and even though we haven’t had sex we’ve done other things and I was convicted.
Being abstinent and walking in purity are not the same.
I’m just now learning how to do both and understand that this isn’t something we can do in our own strength.
I don’t care how strong you think you are.
Don’t let my man come over with a fresh haircut, wearing gray sweatpants while I’m ovulating! ” We all burst into laughter.
“That’s so real.” I said.
I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
Audrey spoke up next, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“For me, it’s comparison,” she admitted. “I’m constantly looking at other women online or around me and feeling like I’m not enough. Like I should be further along, doing more, being more.”
“Same,” someone else chimed in from across the circle.
“I struggle with consistency,” another voice added. “I’ll be on fire for God one week and then the next I’m barely picking up my Bible.”
“Girl who you telling? I was supposed to be studying my bible last night, tell me why I ended up on my phone scrolling on social media for hours.”
A soft ripple of laughter moved through the room—not mocking, but understanding.
It felt… safe.
Kiara leaned back in her chair, shaking her head with a smile.
“Look at us, all this time we’ve been sitting in the same room thinking we were the only ones dealing with this stuff.”
“Right,” Kennedy added. “The enemy really had us out here suffering in silence.”
I nodded slowly, feeling the truth of that.
“As the leader of the club, I take some responsibility for that,” I said. “Maybe, I should’ve opened up a lot sooner.”
“I’m going to have to disagree with you. Leader or not, this was our first year and you did a great job leading us.” Tasha affirmed.
“Thanks girl. We need spaces like this… where we can be real, where we can drop the masks and remind each other that we’re not alone…
and that God’s still working on all of us.
I know we dedicate a lot of our time to giving back and doing different community outreach events, but I think it’s time for us to incorporate weekly prayer calls and sessions like this where we can just talk about real life situations. ”
“I’m down,” Kiara said.
“Me too, we can start checking in with each other more intentionally,” Kennedy suggested. “Praying for each other. Being honest when we’re struggling instead of hiding it.”
“I’m down with that,” Tasha said immediately.
“Me too.”
“Same here.”
Voices echoed around the room in agreement.
I ended our meeting by announcing our new leader, Kennedy.
It wasn’t a last-minute decision. I’d been sitting with the idea for weeks, and it felt like the right time.
She was one of the most organized and passionate women I had ever met so passing the reins of leadership over to her was a no brainer and having one less responsibility on my plate would make a huge difference for me.
I needed more time and energy to focus on my internship.
Being a Program Admin Assistant for the nonprofit was no joke.
I was running orientation packets, sorting data in Google sheets for events, coordinating youth programs, all while shadowing the director, a woman named Rachel who ran meetings like she owned the entire planet.
I admired her. The organization was messy in some areas, inspiring in others but it stretched me in the best ways. It was demanding but fulfilling. And being busy meant I didn’t have time to wallow in my thoughts.
I realized quickly that adulthood hit hardest around 6 p.m. when you’re hungry and tired and you realized how much money you were spending on eating out and ordering DoorDash. So, I started spending weekends in the kitchen with GiGi— a.k.a., “Grandma Gordon Ramsay.”
She cooked like the stove owed her money.
“Simone, you can’t just sit there and watch me, you gotta actually pick up a spoon or something. Put that phone down and come taste this roux,” she said, holding up her wooden spoon.
“A what?” I asked without having a clue what a roux was. “A roux, baby. If you gon’ be a wife one day, you need to know how to make food that makes a man think twice about acting stupid.”
I choked laughing. “He better know how to cook too, this ain’t the 1940s.”
And when GiGi wasn’t teaching me how to cook, TikTok was. I had to toss out several dishes, and I may have set off the smoke detector a few times.” But eventually, I got good. Like… shockingly good.
The friend group that we had formed went from five to four and now it wasn’t much of a group at all.
With Samaj in Union Heights, Kadeem disappearing shortly after without leaving much of a trace, Emon consumed with the process of opening his own Tattoo shop.
Emaree, like myself was wrapping up her last semester of school, and a lot of her free time had also been going to the new guy in her life, Donovan.
Life had pulled us all in different directions.
We haven’t been really talking or hanging out so I was caught completely off guard when my phone buzzed with a notification from our old group chat.
Samaj: I’m flying in this weekend