Welcome to With Love, Racquel
Hi Love,
Welcome to With Love, Racquel, a space rooted in softness, grace, and growth. Here, my words are meant to feel like warm, familiar hugs. The kind that remind you of who you are, what you carry, and just how capable you’ve always been.
This is a place for the woman learning to breathe again. For the mother who pours so much into others and is now remembering to pour into herself. And for anyone who wants to feel held, understood, and reminded that they are never alone.
So settle in and find a comfortable seat. Together, we’ll navigate this journey with trust, honesty, love, and a whole lot of magic. One story. One reflection. And one letter at a time.
With Love,
Racquel
For women embracing softness, grace, and self-discovery.
After a year full of chaos, noise, and nonstop doing, what we truly need isn’t more effort, it’s rest. This season invites us to slow down, release what we’re carrying, and finally give our bodies and minds the break they’ve been begging for.
As I reflected on the highs and lows of this year, I realized that not only do I have things to leave behind — but so do all of us. From outdated expectations to harmful systems to habits we outgrew long ago, this is the collective vibe cleanse we all deserve before stepping into 2026.
Black women don’t enter the holiday season from a place of ease. We enter it carrying emotional, generational, cultural, and professional labor the world depends on, but rarely acknowledges. And after a year where hundreds of thousands of Black women were pushed out of the workforce, dismissed, overlooked, and expected to “push through,” our Christmas lists look very different from what’s sold in a gift guide. This year, I’m naming what Black women really want: rest, softness, protection, dignity, and joy that doesn’t require suffering.
2025 gave me wins, lessons, and a whole lot of clarity about what I’m no longer entertaining. This year showed me the habits, expectations, and mindsets that drain more than they give — and I’m not carrying any of them into 2026. I’m choosing ease, alignment, and peace. Here are the 25 things I’m releasing before the new year.
We love creating Christmas magic for our families, but behind the scenes, moms are carrying the lists, the plans, the wrapping, the remembering, and the emotional labor of it all. This year, I’m giving voice to what we really want for Christmas—unfiltered, unapologetic, and finally said out loud. Here are 20 things we actually want this holiday season.
A warm, honest reflection on the people, moments, and lessons that shaped my year. From motherhood and love to chosen family, creativity, and quiet joy, here’s what I’m truly thankful for in this season of gratitude.
In yoga teacher training, I’m learning that support isn’t just something we offer—it’s something we must learn to receive. Asking for help is becoming one of my deepest healing practices.
I walked into yoga teacher training expecting alignment, cues, and confidence. Instead, it showed me how to move through life with more trust — less rushing, less controlling, and a whole lot more breathing. This is the story of what I learned on the mat, and what’s still unfolding off of it.
After obedience comes alignment—the reward for when you stop forcing what’s not meant for you. In this letter, I share how choosing faith, flow, and trust allowed life to start meeting me halfway.
Motherhood has a way of inviting unnecessary, unwarranted, and unsolicited commentary. Everyone has an opinion. Everyone has advice. And for a while, I tried to meet that noise with explanations, guilt, and apologies—for choices that were never up for debate in the first place.
I’m done with that now.
This is a list of the things I refuse to apologize for as a mother. From boundaries and routines to softness, emotional honesty, and instinct. Because raising my daughter doesn’t require a consensus—it requires trust.