Pray Eat Slay

let’s enjoy each other’s company

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I’m a leader, a mother, and a woman intentionally evolving. Through discipline, faith, and self-awareness, I’m creating a life that blends strength with softness. This space reflects my journey of growth, high standards, and learning to live beautifully without dimming who I am.

  • Trip Leader Diaries: Paris Tried Me

    If you have been following my European adventures, then you already know that I love a good trip. Put me on a bus, give me an itinerary, and tell me there is shopping and good food involved, and I am usually ready to go.

    This weekend, however, I wasn’t just going to Paris.

    I was going to Paris as the Trip Leader.

    I thought this was going to be a great experience. A little responsibility, a little sightseeing, some shopping, and another beautiful day in one of my favorite cities.

    Baby.

    What I thought was going to be a great weekend turned into one of the most stressful, anxiety-filled travel experiences I have ever had in my life.

    And the crazy part?

    We left on time.

    That should have been my first clue that something was about to go wrong.

    As the Trip Leader, I had an itinerary to keep. Paris was waiting. We had reservations. We had a tour guide expecting us. We had places to be at specific times.

    The drivers, however, apparently had their own itinerary.

    We made multiple stops along the way, which I understood. People need bathroom breaks. Drivers need breaks. That was not the problem.

    The problem was that I would give everyone a 15-minute time hack, get the passengers back on the bus, and then the drivers would decide they needed another 10 minutes.

    Every. Single. Time.

    Meanwhile, I am watching the clock and internally calculating exactly how late we are becoming.

    By the time we finally arrived in Paris, we were about an hour and a half behind schedule. Then, when we reached the hotel where our tour guide was waiting, the drivers did not want to drop the passengers off in front of the hotel.

    So there I was, already stressed, apologizing to the tour guide and apologizing to the passengers for circumstances completely outside of my control.

    And that was just the beginning.

    Thankfully, I did manage to have one successful part of my Paris adventure.

    I got my mother’s birthday present.

    I got my graduation present to myself.

    I restocked my beloved mustard.

    And, most importantly, I got macarons for my daughter.

    So for a brief moment, Paris and I were back on speaking terms.

    I thought maybe the stressful part was behind me.

    It was not.

    The next part of the trip included two excursions: dinner followed by an evening river cruise.

    We made it to the dinner reservation on time.

    A WIN.

    As soon as we arrived, I made sure the manager knew exactly what time our group needed to leave because we had to make it to the river for our cruise.

    We ate.

    We waited.

    And waited.

    And waited some more.

    Do you think we got our dessert?

    Of course we didn’t.

    We eventually had to leave without it because there simply wasn’t enough time to wait any longer. At that point, I was focused on one thing: getting my passengers to that boat.

    And I did.

    We made it to the river.

    I thought, Okay, Dana. You did it. Everybody is here. We made the cruise.

    Wrong again.

    We get to the boat, and I discover that the tickets apparently have not been paid for.

    Now I am standing in Paris with an entire group of passengers who are expecting to get on this river cruise, and somehow I am having to come out of my own pocket and pay €100 to fix a problem I did not create.

    At this point, I was beyond stressed.

    But surely, after paying €100, I could finally get on the boat and enjoy the cruise too, right?

    Nope.

    Because somehow, in the middle of everything, I didn’t even have a ticket for myself.

    I had spent the entire day trying to make sure everyone else got where they needed to be. I had apologized for delays I didn’t cause. I had rushed from one place to another. I had managed the time, the passengers, the dinner, and now the tickets.

    And after all of that, I was the one standing on the side of the river without a ticket.

    I looked at my passengers and told them to have fun, take pictures, and that I would meet them back at the same spot when they returned.

    Then I watched them leave.

    I cannot even explain what I felt in that moment.

    It took everything in me not to sit there and cry.

    I walked away from the river, found a little restaurant on the corner, sat down, and ordered myself something to eat.

    At that point, I just needed a moment.

    A quiet moment.

    A moment where nobody needed anything from me.

    A moment where I wasn’t responsible for getting anyone anywhere.

    I am sitting there trying to process the entire day when someone tries to pickpocket me and take my Chanel bag.

    MY CHANEL.

    At that point, Paris had officially done enough.

    I had been delayed.

    I had apologized.

    I had rushed.

    I had missed dessert.

    I had paid €100 out of pocket.

    I had gotten everyone else onto a river cruise that I couldn’t even go on.

    And now somebody wanted my purse too?!

    Absolutely not.

    I was overwhelmed. I was exhausted. My anxiety was through the roof, and I was more than ready for the day to be over.

    Looking back, I can laugh at some parts of this trip now.

    But in the moment, it was hard.

    Being the person in charge means that everyone looks to you when something goes wrong, even when you have absolutely no control over what is happening.

    They don’t always see you checking the time every five minutes.

    They don’t see you mentally recalculating the entire itinerary.

    They don’t feel the pressure of knowing that people paid for an experience and trusting you to help make sure they receive it.

    And sometimes, they don’t realize that while you are busy making sure everyone else is okay, you might be barely holding yourself together.

    That was Paris for me this weekend.

    Was the entire trip bad? No.

    I bought my mom her birthday gift. I bought myself a beautiful graduation present because your girl worked hard for that degree. I got my daughter her macarons. I got my mustard. I walked through Paris. I did what needed to be done.

    And despite everything that went wrong, my passengers made their excursions.

    That matters to me.

    But I also learned something about myself.

    I can handle a lot.

    I can problem-solve under pressure. I can adjust when plans fall apart. I can keep moving when I am frustrated, overwhelmed, and ready to cry.

    But I am also allowed to admit when something was simply too much.

    And this trip?

    Baby, it was TOO MUCH.

    Paris, I still love you.

    But after this weekend, you and I need a little space.

    Pray. Eat. Slay.

    And apparently, when necessary…

    Lead the trip, pay for the tickets, protect the Chanel, and try not to cry.

  • No A/C, But Still Thriving

    This week reminded me that sometimes the best plans are no plans at all.

    After a long four-day work week with no air conditioning at work, I was counting down the minutes until I could get home, kick my feet up, and relax on the couch. Then reality hit me…there’s no air conditioning at home either!

    The A/C

    For a moment, I seriously considered taking refuge in my mom’s bedroom downstairs because it’s the coolest room in the house. So far, I’ve survived, although I did buy a portable AC unit. The only problem? I still haven’t put it together. Maybe that’s tomorrow’s project.

    Even though this weekend has been slow, I’ve still managed to be productive. I’ve been making my way through what feels like an endless mountain of laundry. A lot of my clothes have to be washed separately to help preserve them, so one load quickly turned into twenty. I’m proud to say I finally put a dent in it. I’m now down to ten loads, and I’ll definitely count that as a win.

    Another accomplishment this weekend was finally getting my patio pressure washed. I paid $80 to have it done, and while it looks so much better, it also convinced me to buy my own pressure washer sooner rather than later. Who has that kind of money to keep throwing away every time the patio needs cleaning? Sometimes investing in the right tools just makes more sense.

    As for the yard, I’m giving myself permission to wait. With the heat and the weather forecast, Tuesday before the rain sounds like the perfect time to tackle the grass. Sometimes working smarter is better than working harder.

    The weekend meals have been simple and comforting. Yesterday we enjoyed pulled pork sandwiches with coleslaw and broccoli. Tonight it’s sausage and potatoes; easy, filling, and exactly what I wanted after a long week.

    Not every weekend has to be packed with adventures or travel. Sometimes slowing down, catching up on life, crossing a few things off the to-do list, and celebrating the little victories is exactly what’s needed. Here’s to surviving another German heat wave, making progress one load of laundry at a time, and remembering that rest is productive too.

  • The Beauty Beyond the Postcard

    There are some trips that leave you wanting to book another flight before you’ve even unpacked your suitcase. Then there are trips that simply leave you grateful you experienced them.

    Croatia and Lake Bled fall into the second category for me.

    This past weekend, I spent four days exploring the Istrian Peninsula in Croatia, visiting Poreč, Rovinj, and Pula. I stayed at the Valamar Tamaris Resort, which was the perfect home base for exploring the region. Every town had its own personality, but they all shared the same charm that makes this part of Croatia so special.

    The small port towns were peaceful, colorful, and full of character. Walking through the narrow cobblestone streets, watching boats gently sway in the harbor, and seeing locals enjoy a slower pace of life reminded me that life doesn’t always have to move at full speed.

    As beautiful as it was, I found myself wondering about the people who call these towns home.

    Do the younger generations stay and build their lives there? Or do they eventually move to larger cities in search of more opportunities? With so many older residents enjoying the cafés and waterfronts, I couldn’t help but wonder what the future of these small communities looks like. It’s one of those questions that travel often brings out in me. You begin to wonder about the lives behind the beautiful scenery.

    Now let’s talk about the food.

    I honestly don’t think I had a single disappointing meal.

    Every restaurant I visited served food that was well seasoned. As someone who appreciates good flavor, that made me incredibly happy. And the calamari? Absolutely amazing. I ordered it several times because every restaurant seemed to get it just right. Crispy, tender, flavorful, and cooked perfectly every single time.

    After Croatia, I made my way to Lake Bled in Slovenia.

    The scenery was every bit as beautiful as the pictures you see online. Sitting beside the lake with the mountains in the background made it easy to understand why so many people fall in love with this destination.

    Of course, I couldn’t leave without trying the famous Lake Bled Cream Cake. It absolutely lived up to the hype. Light, creamy, and just sweet enough, it was the perfect treat after a day of exploring.

    If I had one complaint, it would be the weather.

    June was much hotter than I expected. The sun was intense, and sunscreen quickly became less of a suggestion and more of a necessity. If you’re planning a summer trip, definitely pack sunscreen, stay hydrated, and prepare for the heat.

    So, would I recommend visiting Croatia and Lake Bled?

    Absolutely.

    Would I go back?

    Probably not.

    Not because I didn’t enjoy it. I truly did. It was beautiful, relaxing, and absolutely worth experiencing. But for me, once was enough. There are still so many places on my travel list, and I’d rather continue exploring somewhere new than revisit a destination I’ve already experienced.

    Sometimes the best part of traveling isn’t checking another country off your list.

    It’s the memories you make, the people you watch, the food you enjoy, and the questions a place leaves you asking long after you’ve returned home.

    Croatia and Lake Bled gave me exactly that.

  • Nineteen Years Later, I Did It

    The Sketch 

    There are moments in life that feel bigger than the accomplishment itself. This week, I experienced one of those moments.

    I officially graduated with my Bachelor of Science in Computer Technology with a concentration in Web Development and finished with a 3.9218 GPA.

    When I look at that number, I am proud. But when I look at the journey, I am amazed.

    My college journey started in 2007. If someone had told the younger version of me that it would take nineteen years to complete my bachelor’s degree, I probably would have laughed. Life had other plans.

    Over those nineteen years, I became a Soldier. I deployed. I moved across countries and continents. I became a mother. I raised a daughter. I cared for family members. I worked long hours. I balanced military responsibilities, school assignments, and everyday life.

    There were semesters when I could only take one class. There were times when school had to take a backseat to life. There were moments when giving up would have been easier than continuing.

    But I never completely stopped.

    One of the things people don’t always see is what happens behind the scenes. Degrees aren’t earned only in classrooms. They’re earned during lunch breaks, after long workdays, on weekends, and sometimes even on vacation.

    I still remember sitting in Sanremo, Italy, completing a quiz before I could officially start my vacation. Most people probably would have waited. I couldn’t. I knew every assignment mattered because every assignment was another step toward the finish line.

    Over the years, there were countless late nights spent writing papers while daughter slept. There were discussions completed from hotel rooms, airports, and military installations. There were moments when I questioned whether I was doing enough, moving fast enough, or if I would ever reach the end.

    The answer was yes.

    Not because the journey was easy, but because I kept going.

    Three years ago, I earned my Associate Degree in Computer Technology with a 3.80 GPA. This year, I completed my bachelor’s degree with a 3.9218 GPA. That growth represents more than improved grades. It represents confidence, discipline, maturity, and a commitment to never stop investing in myself.

    As women, mothers, Soldiers, and caregivers, we often put ourselves last. We spend so much time making sure everyone else is taken care of that our own goals get pushed aside. This degree is a reminder that our dreams still matter.

    Sometimes progress is slow.

    Sometimes it takes nineteen years.

    Sometimes success looks like refusing to quit.

    Today, I am celebrating this milestone. Not because I was the smartest person in the room, but because I stayed the course.

    To anyone currently working toward a goal that feels impossible, keep going. Your timeline does not have to look like anyone else’s. Life is not a race. Progress is progress.

    Nineteen years later, I can finally say it:

    I did it.

    And for the first time in a long time, I’m allowing myself to pause and enjoy the accomplishment before chasing the next dream.

    Until next time,

    Dana…

  • The Curse of Being Capable

    Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the men in my life. This isn’t a man-bashing post. It’s not about saying all men are bad or that women are somehow better. It’s simply an honest look at how tired I am of constantly proving my worth while carrying responsibilities that don’t seem to belong to me.

    Whether it’s work, dating, or even thoughts about my father, I often find myself wondering why I always seem to be the one going the extra mile.

    In relationships, I’ve always been the woman who pays attention. I know your favorite order. I notice when you’re stressed. If the restaurant gets your food wrong, I’m the one politely fixing it because I want your experience to be good. I think about the little things because that’s how I show I care. What I struggle with is finding someone willing to put that same energy back into me.

    At work, it’s not much different. Two weeks ago, a male counterpart was tasked with creating a centerpiece for an event. It didn’t get done. Two days before the ball, I found myself running around buying flowers, building centerpieces, and making sure we didn’t look unprepared. Not because it was my responsibility, but because I couldn’t stand watching something fail when I knew I could help.

    Then there are the moments that happen when no one else is awake. Like the phone call at four o’clock on a Sunday morning telling me a Soldier’s paperwork wasn’t signed and his plane ticket had been canceled. I called five different people trying to fix the situation. Only one person answered. If you guessed it was another woman, you’d be correct.

    Sometimes I wonder if this is just who I’ve become. The fixer. The reliable one. The person everyone calls when things go wrong.

    The problem is that being dependable comes with a cost.

    I’m tired.

    Not tired of helping. Not tired of caring. I’m tired of feeling like I have to earn the same level of effort that I freely give to others. I’m tired of being strong all the time. I’m tired of carrying responsibilities that somehow become mine simply because I know they’ll get done if I handle them.

    Maybe that’s why I’ve been reflecting on my dad lately. I wonder what he would think if he could see me now. Would he be proud of the woman I’ve become? Or would he tell me to stop carrying everyone else’s weight?

    What I want isn’t complicated. I don’t need someone to rescue me. I don’t need grand gestures or fairy tales.

    I just want someone to occasionally say, “I’ve got it.”

    Let me stay seated while you grab lunch.

    Let me be the one who doesn’t have all the answers.

    Let me be cared for the same way I care for everyone else.

    Because even the strong women get tired.

    And sometimes, the woman everyone depends on needs someone she can depend on too.

  • Stressed Mama

    A Sunset in Rome

    There’s something strange about being this close to the finish line. For years, school has been part of my routine. Late nights, discussion posts, projects, group assignments, random moments of panic, and somehow still showing up to work, being a mom, and trying to keep life moving. Now I officially have one more week left before my capstone is over, and honestly, I don’t even know how to feel. Part of me is excited for the freedom. The thought of not opening my laptop every night sounds unreal. No deadlines hanging over my head. No discussion boards due at 11:59 p.m. Just the chance to finally breathe for a second.

    But another part of me is nervous.

    Because the moment one chapter ends, another one starts. I keep thinking about this next season of my life. Taking extra classes. Building something bigger for myself. Trying to step into tech, coding, and all the goals I’ve been talking about for years. Then the doubts start creeping in. Am I actually good enough? Will I really make it? Or will I become another Black woman carrying everything on her back until she’s completely exhausted?

    That thought has been sitting heavy on my mind lately.

    The crazy part is life does not slow down just because you are stressed. Tomorrow is a holiday, and instead of relaxing, your girl will be outside cutting grass, doing two heads, and somewhere in between trying to stop procrastinating long enough to work on my capstone project. Real life does not care that I’m overwhelmed. The laundry still needs to be folded. Bills still need to be paid. The dog still wants attention. My teenager still needs summer plans that won’t completely destroy my bank account.

    And that part has honestly been stressing me out too.

    Summer is coming fast, and I’m trying to figure out how to give my child experiences, fun, and memories while still being financially responsible. I have about $4,000 in savings, and in today’s economy that does not feel like some huge safety net. It feels like one unexpected expense could humble you real quick.

    Still, I’m proud of myself.

    Even with all the stress, I’m still moving forward. Maybe not perfectly. Maybe not gracefully. But forward anyway. And I think that counts for something. Sometimes survival does not look inspirational. Sometimes it looks like a tired mom with a lawn mower, a laptop full of unfinished work, and a brain running on caffeine and determination.

    But she’s still going.

  • Quiet Weekends and Loud Thoughts

    Quiet Weekends and Loud Thoughts

    Some weekends are loud and exciting. Others are just quiet enough to hear your own thoughts.

    Last weekend my daughter and I took another little adventure for ramen and anime shopping. The ramen was definitely better than what we had a few weeks ago, but not enough for us to say we would absolutely come back. The anime store itself was actually really cool with three different levels to explore. Most of the books were in German, which honestly made complete sense considering we are living in Germany. Even though I couldn’t read most of them, I still found a few titles I want to look into later.

    My daughter is still on the hunt for the perfect new keychain, but we did find two adorable little bear keychains by Bon Ton Toys that she absolutely loved. Seeing her smile over something so simple honestly made the entire outing worth it. Now the mission is finding a mall because she wants to start exploring a completely new style. Think anime street fashion in Japan inspired.

    The rain completely ruined my plans to finally tackle the yard again, so honestly most of the week felt gray and slow. And somewhere in between all of that, I kept finding myself going back and forth in my mind about love, relationships, and what I actually want my life to feel like moving forward.

    But maybe the biggest win of the week was this: I was in bed by 9 PM last night and asleep by 9:10. The sun was literally still out.

    No overthinking.
    No doom scrolling.
    No forcing productivity.

    Just rest.

    And maybe that says more about where I am in life right now than anything else.

  • The Weekend We Became Lawn Girls

    The Weekend We Became Lawn Girls

    This Saturday was unexpectedly fun and honestly a little surprising. About two weeks ago I ordered a lawn mower and finally decided it was time to put it together and tackle our backyard. Now have I ever mowed a lawn before? Absolutely not. But I was determined to make our yard look like something other than a field of overgrown weeds. Did it rain for two days straight before this? Yes. But that still was not stopping me.

    I pulled my daughter into the project with me because initially I was on poop duty while she was supposed to mow. Side note, she has never mowed a lawn either. We threw on our sweats, boots, and got to work. Three hours later and somehow we had transformed the backyard into something we were actually proud of. I am not going to lie, seeing the finished yard felt rewarding. There is something about figuring things out together that makes the hard work worth it.

    The Lawn

    After all that yard work we decided we deserved a little dinner date and headed to Cocoon Fine Asia Cuisine in Amberg. I had been trying to find a ramen spot for my daughter that could hopefully compare to the ramen we used to get in Korea. We ordered the Tom Xao Toi, duck and seafood ramen, and the Dragon Roll. To drink, my daughter stayed loyal to her usual Sprite while I ordered their Ginger Cooler and a virgin mojito.

    Now let me tell you, the real star of the night was the Tom Xao Toi. The garlicky shrimp mixed with kimchi was so good that I actually asked for the menu back hoping there was a full entrée version. Sadly there was not. The sushi was decent and definitely redeemed itself compared to the last restaurant we tried, but it still was just okay. The ramen unfortunately lacked flavor. The noodles themselves were good, but overall it just did not hit the way we hoped it would. Safe to say we probably will not be back.

    Honestly though, the best part of the entire day was just spending quality time with my daughter and making memories together. After dinner we stopped to grab gelato from a local spot before heading home. It was one of those simple days that end up feeling really special.

    Now I just have to keep quiet about the brunch surprise I already planned for us next Saturday in Nuremberg because I am already excited.

  • Some Places Hold Pain, Not Lessons

    I spent the day standing on ground that once held unimaginable suffering at Flossenbürg Concentration Camp. What was meant to be a Holistic Health and Fitness training turned into something much heavier than I think anyone could have prepared me for.

    At first, I couldn’t understand why we were there.

    Why would Soldiers be brought to a place where human beings were dehumanized, tortured, and killed? Why were we standing where roll calls were conducted by SS officers, knowing that for many, those moments led to death?

    And then something shifted.

    As an African American woman, I couldn’t separate what I was seeing from what I already carry. The more I walked, the more I realized this experience felt like what it would be like to walk through a slave plantation.

    Not in comparison of suffering. Not in competition of pain. But in recognition.

    Recognition of systems built on cruelty.

    Recognition of people being stripped of their humanity.

    Recognition that history, no matter where it happens, has patterns we cannot ignore.

    It made me think about home.

    When I purchased my house in Richmond Hill, Georgia, there was one thing I knew without hesitation I would never live in a community with the word “plantation” attached to it. I don’t care how beautiful the homes are. I don’t care how polished the marketing sounds.

    Because names carry memory.

    Land carries history.

    And I refuse to build my peace on top of someone else’s suffering.

    Walking through that camp forced me to confront something deeper than history. It made me think about choice.

    The choice to remember.

    The choice to acknowledge.

    And the choice to not normalize what should never feel normal.

    I thought about my daughter too.

    She told me she didn’t want to go on a field trip to this very place. At the time, it seemed like a simple decision. Now, I understand it differently.

    Sometimes, protecting your peace is its own form of awareness.

    This experience didn’t leave me inspired.

    It didn’t leave me motivated.

    It left me unsettled.

    And maybe that’s the point.

    Because some places aren’t meant to teach you comfortably.

    Some places are meant to remind you what happens when humanity is ignored.

    And some things, no matter how much time passes, should never feel normal.

  • Complicated, but Not Confused

    Complicated, but Not Confused

    There’s a quiet kind of confusion that comes when your life looks full on paper, but your heart still feels like something is missing.

    Just yesterday I was walking the streets of Prague, taking in the beauty, and really living the moment. I stopped at Café Savoy and had the kind of breakfast that makes you pause mid-bite, a croissant filled with scrambled eggs, cheese and black truffle, a mimosa or two on the side, their rich Savoy hot chocolate, and a slice of carrot cake. Yum. Prague truly redeemed itself from the last time I went.

    And in those moments, I felt full. Not just from the food, but from the experience. From choosing myself.

    But today looks different.

    Today I’m curled up on my Havertys couch, watching Harlem on Prime Video, and there’s this quiet voice in the back of my mind asking, “Why hasn’t love found me yet?”

    And that question hits differently when you know you’re not sitting still in life.

    I’m not waiting around.

    I’m building.

    I’m showing up every day as the best version of myself I know how to be.

    A present mother.

    A committed soldier.

    A daughter who shows up.

    A woman who is actively trying to grow, heal, and do things right.

    I’ve even been pouring into myself in small ways, like getting lost in books like Alchemised, Lore of the Tides, Rich and Rotten, and Capri. My taste is all over the place, I know. But maybe that’s the point. I’m exploring. Feeling. Expanding.

    Still… real, true love is something I yearn for.

    And maybe that’s the part that makes this season hard.

    Because I’m not willing to settle.

    Not for attention.

    Not for potential.

    Not for someone who requires me to shrink just to make things work.

    But there are moments like today, where I sit here and wonder if my standards are the very thing keeping me alone. If maybe I’m doing something wrong. If maybe I’m missing something everyone else seems to have figured out.

    And that feeling? It doesn’t make me weak. It makes me human.

    Because the truth is, you can be thriving in so many areas of your life and still desire love. You can be grateful for your life and still feel a little empty sometimes. Both things can exist at the same time.

    I’m learning that this space I’m in isn’t failure.

    It’s alignment.

    It’s choosing not to rush something that’s meant to be right. It’s trusting that just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t. It’s understanding that the same discipline I apply to being a mother, a soldier, and a woman building her life… also applies to love.

    Not forcing it.

    Not chasing it.

    Not lowering myself to find it.

    Just continuing to become.

    So today might feel a little heavier than yesterday.

    But it doesn’t take away from everything I am or everything I’m building.

    Love hasn’t missed me.

    It just hasn’t met me yet.