ToniRay Writes

Some days I find myself pacing the floor, my mind moving a million miles a second. I’m not anxious. I’m not worried. I just feel like I’m waiting on something. That something I can’t explain. I honestly don’t know what it is — but I do know it’s something. Maybe I’m waiting for peace. Or closure. Direction. Permission. Or maybe I’m waiting for a new version of myself to arrive. I’m learning that this kind of waiting doesn’t come with instructions. There’s no sign on the wall telling me how long I’ll be here or what happens next. I can’t rush it. I can’t fix it. I can’t force clarity to show up before it’s ready. This season has slowed me down and stripped away my usual distractions, leaving me with nothing but honesty — and that kind of honesty can feel unsettling when you’re used to surviving by staying busy. This season feels like sitting in a doctor’s office. You’re waiting quietly, half-aware of time, half-lost in your thoughts. Then the door opens and, for a moment, your heart...

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wondered about the floating, argumentative thoughts that run through my mind. At times, I find myself arguing in my head with someone who can’t hear a word I’m thinking and will never know the conversation even happened. For a long time, I didn’t understand what these thoughts were or why they were there. They weren’t always present — or if they were, I didn’t pay them much attention. But with age, I’ve become more aware of them. At first, I wasn’t curious about the science behind it. I assumed I was simply upset, and that these thoughts were just what happens when emotions linger. Arguing with someone in your head. Replaying conversations. Thinking, why couldn’t I have thought of that then? Wishing you’d landed the punchline at the right moment so it wouldn’t still be circling your mind — keeping you awake at night and greeting you again the moment you open your eyes. One day, I decided to look deeper into what these thoughts might be. I was afraid...

I believe that in this season of my life, God wants me to focus on Him so He can show me what my focus should be. Outside of my writing, that is. This season of my life should be solely concentrated on the inner work that I so desperately need.   I made a promise to myself that I would start taking the time to look out for myself, my needs, and my mental health, and to rewire the way I think. Without fear. Standing up for myself and not caring what anyone would think about it. I don’t have the mental capacity for anything else that could drain or stagnate that process. Protecting my peace has been vital, and for a while, I didn’t realize the importance of my own presence in my healing. I’ve shown up for so many people in my life, but I’m finally learning what it looks like to show up for me . To sit with myself. To ask myself the questions I’ve always avoided. To give myself the gentleness, the honesty, and the structure my soul has been craving. And the more I slow down, ...