Author: Kaleathia Murphy

As I get older, I find myself becoming more empathetic toward my parents. I’m beginning to see them as simply human beings—people navigating life the best they can. They didn’t come into this world knowing how to be parents, grandparents, or even elderly individuals. They’re learning, just as we all are, and they deserve a lot of grace for that journey.

Forgiving our parents and seeing them as people is powerful. They aren’t superheroes, nor are they flawless; they are simply human beings, just like us. I came across a beautiful tribute that an adult daughter wrote about her mom. She shared that she tries to remember her mother is not just “Mom” but a woman with her own dreams, a woman who wants to be loved and to experience all that life has to offer. That perspective struck a chord with me. As a mother myself, I realize that I, too, am just a woman trying to figure things out. I don’t have all the answers, and I’m still learning along the way.

This realization has deepened my appreciation for my parents. They may not have done everything perfectly, but neither do I. We are all doing the best we can, with what we know at any given moment. Embracing this view helps me offer more patience, forgiveness, and understanding toward my parents—and perhaps even toward myself.

Who created this life timetable, anyway? It seems as if there’s an unspoken rulebook: you should be married by this age, have children by that age, own a house by this age, and have a certain amount in your investments by that age. The list could go on forever. And honestly, it can be overwhelming, especially if you’re nowhere near meeting these milestones. Society’s expectations often weigh us down, leaving us questioning our worth or purpose if we don’t measure up.

In a few years, I’ll be 50. Looking back, I remember how old that age once sounded to me. But now, as I approach it, I feel as if my life is just beginning. I’m becoming the person I’ve always aspired to be, even if, for a while, I thought that version of me was out of reach. Some people may laugh at the idea of “a better me” when I don’t have much tangible to show for it—I don’t own a home, I don’t have a car, and I’m not working in the profession I studied for in school. Instead, I’m blogging, writing a book, and, for the first time, I feel fulfilled. I’m happy because I’m finally doing what I believe I was created to do. I want to “die empty,” to pour everything I was born to do into this life, and I know I’m on the right path to do just that.

Society might say I should have more things in place by the time I reach 50—a career, a home, investments. But I have time. If or when those things happen, it’ll be the right time for me.

“Don’t be sad because it ended. Smile because it happened.” When I heard this, it sparked something inside me, a glimmer of hope that I hadn’t felt in a while. I had been feeling a bit down about no longer living in Los Angeles. For over two years, it was a true privilege to call LA home, especially given that we managed it with zero income. It’s hard to believe we made it there without the support of our business income, and yet, month after month, we somehow covered our rent until we didn’t. But that’s a story for another time.

Now, I’m learning to smile at the thought of all the new possibilities that Georgia has in store. I’m seeing Georgia through a fresh, new lens, appreciating it in a way I hadn’t before. There’s something exciting about starting over and embracing a new chapter, and I’m ready to see what unfolds here with an open heart and mind.

Being the first in my family to break generational trauma has been a journey with no map, no guide, and often no support. It’s like stepping into the unknown, where every move can feel awkward, uncertain, even “crazy.” Without breadcrumbs to follow, I’ve had to learn by making mistakes, sometimes big ones. And those mistakes can feel overwhelming, especially when they come with criticism or mocking from people who doubt that healing this trauma is even possible.

But I’ve learned that being first also means being the one to take the weight of the disbelief, to push through it, and to let faith lead the way. Every wrong turn, every lesson learned, is what’s shaping the path forward. Faith has become my vision, guiding me when I can’t see what’s ahead. It’s taught me to believe in what I feel within, even when there’s no evidence around me. Faith doesn’t rely on sight; it relies on conviction.

So now, I’m okay with making mistakes and taking risks because I’ve seen how those so-called “wrong” turns have turned out for the good. I’m at peace with the path I’m on, knowing that being the first is a calling and one that’s worth every step, every lesson, and every ounce of faith it requires.

Sometimes, it’s easy to wonder if we’re really on the right path, especially if our journey has taken unexpected turns. But here’s the truth: you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Time hasn’t been wasted on you. Every experience, every setback, every triumph—it’s all part of the story that’s brought you here.

By letting go of comparisons, you allow yourself to focus on your unique path. Comparing yourself to others can be tempting, but it often only distracts us from seeing the value in our own journey. Each person’s route is different, and there’s no need to feel embarrassed or discouraged by the one God has chosen for you.

Patience is one of the most powerful tools you can have on your journey. It allows you to make thoughtful, intentional choices instead of being driven by fleeting emotions. Time can be a friend when it helps you think things through, adding wisdom and perspective to your decisions.

When we give ourselves time, we’re able to see beyond the immediate moment and consider the bigger picture. We avoid impulsive choices and instead make sound decisions that align with our values and goals. Time gives us the clarity to discern what’s truly right for us.

You are right where you’re meant to be, on a path that has been carefully guided. Embrace the route that’s led you here. Every experience, every detour has added something valuable to your journey. Trust that this path has purpose, and know that each step forward is built on the strength and wisdom of all you’ve learned.

So, be patient with yourself, trust the process, and let go of any comparisons or doubts. You’re moving forward with exactly what you need to fulfill the purpose that’s uniquely yours.