I’ll admit it—I have Beyoncé playing softly in the background as I write this. The bass hums, the lyrics loop, and I can’t help but smirk at the irony of it all. “Diva is the female version of a hustla.” Yes, she is. But she’s also evolving.

This October, I’ve felt the pulse of something shifting. Women aren’t burning out—they’re burning bright. We’re unlearning the performance of strength and returning to the truth of it. We’re shedding the layers of “be nice,” “tone it down,” and “don’t make ...

I didn’t step onto Threads to make noise; I came to breathe. To test what happens when expression slows down, when presence becomes the point instead of performance.

I call it a micro version of The Plum Diaries, a space for what doesn’t need to be dressed up, just felt. The small, potent truths that rise when you stop curating and simply… arrive.

It’s not strategy; it’s rhythm.

So, here’s to quiet frequencies.
To being seen without shouting.
To letting energy, not urgency, lead the way.

Fol...

I know you’re new here.
So am I.

I didn’t plan a campaign the way everyone else does.
I didn’t chase the algorithm or the calendar.
I set out to experiment—to see what would happen if I let my energy lead instead of my expectations.

And what happened has left me breathless.

It’s not about the followers.
It’s not about the likes.
It’s about the signal that never lies.

Energy.

The curiosity. The quiet pull. The presence that found me without force.
People came, not because I shouted...

But b...

I’ve been watching the way energy moves online, how one post lands like a spark and another hums quietly for days before it finds its people.

This season has been an experiment in rhythm.

I’m learning what it means to build presence as a one-woman show: to choose the words, the visuals, the timing, the tone. Every touchpoint carries my fingerprint, and that makes the learning curve both exhilarating and intimate.

There’s a strange tenderness in seeing what resonates. Ads amplify reach; emotio...

Why I Speak Through Muses...

I’ve always believed that presence needs a face. Not always my own, but a vessel. A mirror. A muse.

The muses are not decoration, and they’re not seasonal marketing. They are archetypes, fragments of identity that hold stories larger than me. Each one is crafted to embody a truth I return to: sovereignty, alignment, mystique, and preparation.

Bronwyn, blooming in her crown of flowers, reminds me that power doesn’t wait for permission. Zora, luminous against her pe...

Silence isn’t absence. It’s preparation.

This week, I’ve been sharpening my AFROTECH pitch and sitting with the quiet of review. It's the kind of silence that feels like standing just before the curtain rises.

I’ve also been breaking in my “new shoes.” Not the ones in the closet, but the ones that visibility asks you to wear. At first, they feel snug, almost too much. But the more I step forward, the more they stretch to fit. Presence works the same way; the more you practice it, the more it b...