For too long, I lived in the lie of someday. Someday I’ll have enough money. Someday my shop will open. Someday I’ll be loved right. Someday life will soften for me. But “someday” became a thief, stealing my present, draining my energy, and keeping me waiting in a cycle that never ended.
I was always reaching for the horizon but never arriving. Until one day, I realized that someday wasn’t real. The only thing real was now. And if I didn’t choose myself today, then I would be waiting forever.
I used to speak in somedays.
Someday, the money will come.
Someday, the shop will open.
Someday, I’ll be loved the way I deserve.
Someday, life will soften its edges
and let me breathe.
But someday was a thief.
It dangled sweetness in front of me,
then pulled it back
like I hadn’t bled enough to earn it.
Someday was a leash.
Someday was a chain.
And I, I was tired of waiting.
So I cut the rope.
Now, I live in the language of now.
Now, my hands build the life I dream of.
Now, abundance runs through me
like breath I don’t have to beg for.
Now, Garo is not a sketch,
not a maybe,
not a prayer whispered into ceilings.
It is doors opening,
machines humming,
a team laughing in a garden
where we work 10 to 4,
because we don’t believe in overtime,
only overflow.
Now, money doesn’t mock me.
It flows in, faithful,
answering bills before they can even whisper my name.
Debts dissolve like mist.
Rent, fees and food handled with ease.
Savings fatten.
Investments grow legs.
And I live debt-free, stress-free,
rich in more ways than one.
Now, my son knows presence,
not absence.
He knows “Mom” not as a woman stretched thin,
but as a woman stretched wide with joy.
We travel, we laugh,
we build memories he will hold like inheritance.
I tuck him in at night,
not with worry lines,
but with peace written across my face.
Now, I am loved,
not halfway,
not in secret,
not in cycles of false starts and painful endings.
I am chosen.
Every single day.
Loyalty no longer feels like a fantasy.
It is flesh and bone.
It is arms that hold,
words that follow through,
a heart aligned with mine.
And even if love had delayed,
I have found it here first, in me.
Now, I travel without running.
I create without fearing.
I give without depleting.
I walk into rooms and opportunities meet me halfway,
eyes wide, doors open.
Aligned clients, aligned projects.
No more proving.
No more begging.
Only flow.
Now, I am free.
Free from micromanaging bosses.
Free from the tight rope of “what if I can’t pay?”
Free from being told to shrink my dreams to fit another’s vision.
Now, I expand.
Now, I bloom.
Now, I live on my own terms,
in my own rhythm,
to the music of abundance, I wrote with my own breath.
I no longer worship someday.
Someday is dead.
Today is alive.
This moment is alive.
This version of me, abundant, loved, free,
is not waiting in the distance.
She is here.
Breathing.
Smiling.
Thriving.
And every time the old ache tries to whisper,
“Not yet, not you,”
I answer,
“No more waiting.
It is done.
It is here.
It is mine.”
Writing this isn’t just poetry for me; it’s prophecy. I no longer see my dreams as far-off or fragile. I see them as inevitable, alive, already mine. Garo isn’t a “someday business.” It is my freedom, my legacy, my proof that nothing I endured was wasted. My son isn’t waiting for me to become the mother he needs; I already am. My heart isn’t waiting to be chosen; I chose myself.
This is my declaration: no more waiting. And if you’re reading this, maybe it’s yours too. Maybe this is your reminder that the life you ache for isn’t hiding in the future. It’s already here, waiting for you to believe it, step into it, and claim it. Sometimes the most powerful prayer you can say is not “someday” but “now.”
