1. Sam's avatar

    yeah I believe it is a familiar insight ,and you are well said.Each need each other.

  2. zelalemkassahun's avatar
  3. Sam's avatar

    A take at a time and you remind me of grace something I barely think of .I will be there…

  4. harythegr8's avatar

    This is quiet courage — not loud wins, but grace that kept walking through grief. Your words remind us that…

  5. camwildeman's avatar

in 10 years I will be

Where do you see yourself in 10 years?

10 Years From Now: Living Comfortably Off My Words, 16 Years Into My Dread Journey, and Wiser and stronger Than Ever



Ten years from now, I will wake up in a space that is entirely mine—built by the rhythm of my pen and the pulse of my thoughts. I’ll be living comfortably, not because I chased comfort, but because I chased purpose. Writing, once a dream, will be the foundation of my income, my lifestyle, and my legacy. It won’t just pay the bills; it’ll be the reason my life feels full.

By then, I’ll be 16 years deep into my dreadlock journey. Each coil will carry a story, a season, a shift. These locks—weathered by time, yet strengthened by intention—will symbolize my patience, my growth, and my refusal to cut off what took time to nurture. They’ll represent not just a style, but a spiritual and creative timeline of who I’ve become.

And of course, I’ll be older. Not in the dull, gray way people fear aging—but in the rich, oak-skin, bright-eyes kind of way. Older, yes—but wiser. I’ll know how to move through chaos with calm. I’ll laugh at things that used to worry me and walk away from things I once chased. I’ll have learned when to speak and when silence says it better.

What’s wild is, I can already feel it coming. I’m laying the bricks now with each word, each decision to show up, each time I choose the writing over the distraction. And with every twist I palm into my dreads, every new page I complete, every insight I sit with—I’m building that future.

So yeah, give me ten years. I won’t just be living. I’ll be rooted in the life I wrote for myself.

Until next time…

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