Thank you, Dr. Maya Angelou

Dr. Maya Angelou’s death was meant for me.

For the first time in months, I was so heavy with sadness that I ached. I felt all my life consisted of were failed attempts at happiness. That all the paths I’ve tried to build led nowhere, and I had nothing I could even think of growing into something great. I was stagnant. It was hitting me, and it hurt.

I was told I was talented in art, writing, and cooking… But I was realizing yesterday that it wasn’t going anywhere. It never seemed to be going anywhere, and it frustrated me. After feeling worthless all day yesterday and wondering why God made me to exist in vain, I got a sharp slap this morning.

Maya Angelou is no longer with us. 

And even though I would research her and think about her occasionally, she has shoved her presence into my life at the most needed time.

She died the day after my darkest fall in months.

She did so to tell me to “Wake up, Phenomenal Woman! You live in your truth, and you know it is one that belongs to a Queen such as yourself.”

If I want to speak a second language, I’ve got to study harder. If I want to do something with my writing, then I must write everyday with purpose.

Maya Angelou has spoken to me in an even quieter way than pen flowing over paper— but just as powerful, mind you: she spoke to me in spirit.