JustLj in June PART II

The Shifting Blog Post

June didn’t crash or crescendo — it shifted. Quietly, slowly, almost imperceptibly at times. But I felt it. In conversations I didn’t force. In moments, I chose to sit with rather than fix. In the way I showed up for others, and maybe more importantly, for myself. This was the kind you notice when you’re brushing your teeth, staring at the ceiling, or standing still in a room that used to feel heavier. June moved me. Not dramatically. But definitely. And in a way that matters.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, to shift means “to change the place, position, or direction of something”— but it also means “to change gears,” “to assume responsibility,” or ” to move subtly in tone or meaning.” It’s a word built for motion, but not always motion you can see. As Maya Angelou once said, ” We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” And bell hooks reminds us, ” Healing is an act of communion.” To shift, then, isn’t just about you. It’s about adjusting in ways that let others breathe. Shifting can be an act of grace. A quiet apology. A new boundary. A softer tone. A deeper truth. A held silence.

Famous Quotes By Maya Angelou. QuotesGram

This June, the shifts were personal and real. My year of service came to an end— closing a chapter that stretched and shaped me in quiet, relentless ways. I moved back to Texas, returning with more clarity, more softness, and a deeper sense of who I am and who I’m still becoming. And maybe most meaningfully, I embraced my genderqueerness more boldly than ever before. During Pride Month, I didn’t just show up — I showed. I claimed space with both softness and strength, and I wrote it all down. Here’s a poem I shared this June, that still echoes in me:

May be an image of text that says 'I wore the shape they gave me. Stood where I was told to stand Flexed in all the wrong directions and wondered why it hurt to hold what never quite held me. then- You were there even quiet, soft-shouldered, waiting in the margins of the mirror with a knowing I didn't yet know. (But oh, I felt you. Felt me.)'
May be a graphic of text that says 'Il. NEUTRAL (Yellow & Smoke & Stillness) Now, I stand in-between with dirt under my fingernails and light in my lungs. No need to choose a box when I can be the space between them. Not undecided -just unbottered. Not hiding- -just humming. I build my breath here, in rooms with no ceiling, learning to be both door and key.'
May be an image of text that says 'III. FLUID (Lavender & Wild Water) Some days I shift mid-sentence. Some days I am sentence and song. Some days I am the question. Some days the poem. I move like weather. Like wonder. And you- You move with me. You always did. There's nothing broken about changing. There's nothing fake about becoming. There's only freedom in it. And it fits you like breath.'
May be an image of text that says 'IV. (Soft & Bright & Clarity) When she shows up in you, in the swing of a word, the curve of a wrist, the joy in being clocked right- don't flinch. She is not a mask. She is a mirror. She is your voice in another octave. Let her dance. Let her shimmer. Let her rest On you like sunlight and stay as long as she likes.'
May be an image of text that says 'V. QUEER (Color Compass) This is not a phase. This is not confusion. This is not for them. This is for you. This is you. The you who is too real to define, too full to simplify, too alive to settle. You are the space between binaries. You are a story truth in every silence. So turn it up. And let yourself sing'

Shifts are constant. That’s why, over the past two years of writing this monthly blog, a recurring theme has surfaced again and again–under different names like change, growth, and now shift. Each word marks a moment, a feeling, a phase of moving forward, even when the steps aren’t clear or easy. Change and growth have been anchors before, but this shift feels different — more fluid, less about arriving and more about navigating the in-between. It reminds me that to live authentically, we can’t settle. We have to keep moving, even when it’s uncomfortable or uncertain, because that movement is what shapes who we are becoming.

As the poet Rainer Maria Rilke wrote, “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.” This echoes the necessity of embracing shifts — not resisting the tides of life, but flowing with them. Similarly, Virginia Woolf observed, “Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end.” The halo is never static; it moves and changes shape, just as we must. Even the philosopher Heraclitus famously said, ” You cannot step into the same river twice,” reminding us that change and shift are the very nature of existence. To live authentically, then, is to accept that we are always in motion, always becoming something new.

At the heart of all these shifts, growth, and changes is one undeniable truth: we are all human — imperfect, evolving, and beautifully complex. No one’s journey should be judged or rushed. As the Apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Our vulnerabilities, our shifts, and our slow growth are not signs of failure, but of life’s grace working within us. Jesus himself said in John 13:34, “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” That love includes compassion for ourselves and others as we move through seasons of change. So whether you’re shifting quietly, growing boldly, or changing completely, remember: this is your sacred path. Your pace is your own, and every step is worthy of respect and kindness— because being human means never standing still.

What I’m Currently Working on

These days, my schedule feels like a careful balancing act as I shift from teaching to focusing on writing and refining my craft. I returned to Texas around June 20th after completing my year of service in New Jersey. I’m no longer tutoring, as that was part of my program there. With middle school testing behind me, I find myself eagerly awaiting the start of my graduate school classes at UNT on August 18th. This past year has been quite transformative, and I’m excited to share my plans and the progress I’ve made during this time. To stay updated on my journey and what I’ll be working on next, feel free to visit the Works in Progress Page or follow the Facebook Page, where I share daily updates and fun tidbits.

Poem of the Month

by me

Unworthily Worthy

— all about being human and still deserving to be seen.

Worthy Pictures | Download Free Images ...

They said I stood too close to the

wrong people.

But I only ever stood beside

humans.

And that’s what we all are—

not right or wrong,

good or bad,

just…human.

Messy,

misunderstood,

changing shape in each other’s

eyes.

We lie sometimes.

We love sometimes.

We lash out and we let go.

We grow and we grieve and we

get it wrong.

That’s being human.

Not better. Not worse.

Just—

born into brokenness,

carrying light in some rooms

and shadows in others.

And if being close to someone

flawed

makes me questionable,

then we’re all guilty

of being human together.

You can’t know someone’s worth

by who they sit beside.

You can’t measure a heart

by another”s history.

We are not math.

We are not clean.

We are not pure or impure.

We just are.

And that is.

We all walk with contradictions—

mine just showed up in who I

chose to see.

But still,

I believe we’re worth the seeing.