Oct. 26, 2025

Longtime Forum participant Dr. Blanche Penn has included in her latest book some advice for younger women finding their way through life’s ups and downs. With the author-publisher’s permission, below is the full text of Chapter 6: “The Mirror Room – Daily Reflections.” The 140-page paperback is available on Amazon.

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Chapter 6

The Mirror Room – Daily Reflections

A quiet room for facing your truth, honoring your journey, and looking within.

The mirror doesn’t lie. It simply asks us to look again. In this room, I take pauses to reflect not just on what I’ve done, but on who I am becoming. These pages are filled with quiet revelations, fleeting thoughts that came like wind, and lessons I didn’t expect to learn. Sometimes reflection happens in silence; other times, it arrives like a child’s question or an unspoken grief. Either way, the mirror always tells the truth.

The Wake-Up Call at 3:34 a.m.

It was early too early for most. But there I was, wide awake at 3:34 a.m., staring into the stillness of the morning. No alarms. No distractions. Just silence… and my thoughts.

And in that quiet, my mind kept circling back to a recent conversation with a friend. Something he said settled deep in my chest and refused to let go. He told me, “Don’t wait for him… you might need to move on. Relationships don’t always work out for me, and before I hurt someone or make them feel unwanted, I move on.” He said it casually, like it was just another passing thought. He’s a good man kind, thoughtful, and deserving of true love. Someone who needs and deserves a steady, honest connection. But for me, his words landed like a quiet thunderclap. Not because they were cruel or cold, but because they held a truth, I wasn’t quite ready to face maybe I had been holding onto someone who had already moved on in his heart. Sometimes, we don’t realize that the person we’re waiting for might not be meant for us not now, not in this season. And while we keep holding the door open for them, we might be shutting out someone else… someone who’s already in our life or just one door away. I started asking myself the questions I’d been avoiding:

• Am I holding on to the idea of love, rather than the reality I’m living in?
• Am I staying because it’s safe and familiar, even if it no longer feels mutual, or right?
• Am I confusing loyalty with self-neglect?

And this – this is the moment so many women find themselves in. Often in the quiet hours, when the world is asleep and we’re left alone with the truth. We’ve all been there: hoping, holding on, giving someone the benefit of the doubt while slowly losing pieces of ourselves in the process. Because here’s the truth we don’t always talk about: Sometimes, we’re not just waiting for him we’re waiting for ourselves. Waiting to feel worthy. Waiting to be chosen. Waiting to be treated the way we know we deserve but haven’t yet demanded. As women, we’re taught to be patient. To endure. To give grace. But rarely are we taught when it’s time to walk away. To protect our peace. To choose ourselves instead of waiting for someone else to finally do it. That night, I realized something important: Strength isn’t always found in staying. Sometimes, it’s found in letting go. In recognizing when your love is no longer being honored. In choosing clarity over confusion … self-worth over silence. At 3:34 a.m., I began to reclaim myself. Because while heartbreak is hard, staying stuck in hope without reciprocation is even harder. And sis, if this is where you are woken up in the middle of your own ache listen closely: You don’t have to wait for someone to come around. You don’t have to prove your worth to someone who refuses to see it. You don’t have to settle for less just because it feels familiar. You are not alone in this experience. But you can be the one who chooses differently. The one who breaks the cycle. The one who finally says, “Enough. I choose me.” So, if you ever find yourself wide awake in the middle of the night unsure, uneasy, unraveling knows this: It’s not the end.

It might just be the beginning. The beginning of your freedom.

The beginning of your clarity. The beginning of your comeback. And yes… you are strong enough to begin again.

The Power of Presence Over Texts

That early morning wake-up call didn’t just jolt my emotions it started unraveling the truth I hadn’t been willing to say out loud. I began replying to everything. Not just what he said, but how he said it and how much of it didn’t align with what I felt we once shared. That’s why I’ve always preferred face-to-face conversations. In person, you can look someone in the eye and see what words they might try to hide. There’s honesty in body language, in the silence between sentences, in the way someone chooses to show or doesn’t. Texts can lie. Calls can cover things up. But presence? Presence rarely deceives. So, I thought: Maybe if we just talked in person, I’d understand where we stand. But even that didn’t help. The words were there, but the connection wasn’t. Something had shifted and not in a small way. The energy was different. It wasn’t angry or dramatic, just… absent. We were no longer meeting in the middle. The emotional bridge we once stood on had quietly fallen apart.

I felt in my chest that empty space between what we used to be and what we had become. I was left in emotional limbo: unsure, unheard, unprioritized. And it hurt. Not because I didn’t expect it, but because I had hoped I was wrong. With Valentine’s Day approaching, the timing forced clarity. I could either keep holding onto a fading connection or I could hold onto myself And that’s when the real question echoed back fr0m that 3:34 a.m. moment: Why am I waiting for someone to choose me, when I’m fully capable of choosing myself?

Rethinking Relationships

That conversation both over the phone and in person revealed more in what wasn’t said than what was. And as I sat with the silence that followed, I began rethinking the relationship entirely. Because here’s what I know now: Fun time is not supposed to be a waiting game. It’s not supposed to leave you anxious, second-guessing, or wondering where you stand in someone else’s life. Love should never feel like a test you keep taking, hoping this time you pass. And you should never feel like you’re auditioning for a part in someone else’s story especially not when you have the power to write your own. In my 30s, I might have stayed longer. I would have made excuses, filled in the emotional gaps, and told myself, ”Maybe he’s just busy. Maybe he’ll come around ” Back then, I confused consistency with hope and silence with patience. I gave more grace than was deserved because I thought that’s what love required.

But now? Now I know better. In my 50s, -70s I no longer wait for “maybes.” I no longer chase closure or try to decode mixed signals. I listen to what people show me. I believe actions. I honor energy. And most importantly I honor me. Because age doesn’t just bring wrinkles. It brings wisdom. And that wisdom whispers: Your time is sacred. Your energy is valuable. And your heart? It’s not a proving ground. As women, we carry so many expectations, judgment, cultural pressure to be partnered up and perfectly polished. We’re taught to give grace, be understanding, stay soft, stay hopeful. And while those qualities are beautiful, they shouldn’t come at the cost of our peace. We waste years waiting for people who aren’t ready, on relationships without direction, on apologies that never come. And what do we lose? Time. Energy. Ourselves. That’s why I decided. I stopped asking where I stood in his life, and I started standing firmly on my own. Because rethinking a relationship isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a powerful act of self-respect.

The Email That Set Me Free

After all the conversations, confusion, and clarity gained during those quiet moments, I knew what I needed to do not for him, but for me. I decided to write him an email. Not out of anger, not out of spite but out of truth. Out of a place that had been growing stronger with every unanswered question and every time I felt unseen. I used to believe closure had to come from a conversation. That it had to be spoken aloud. That we needed to sit down together and dissect what went wrong, what could’ve been done better, who hurt who first. But I’ve come to understand that sometimes, closure isn’t a shared process. Sometimes, it’s a solo decision you make between your spirit and your sanity.

And so, I wrote. I didn’t write to convince him of anything. I didn’t write to make him feel guilty. I didn’t need validation or a response. I wrote to reclaim my voice to choose myself without waiting for anyone else to do it first. In that email, I acknowledged our time together. I honored the good moments, the laughs, the connection that once felt genuine and true. I thanked him for the growth even if it came with some pain. And then I told him the part that mattered most: “While I’ve enjoyed our time and the space we once shared, I need to move on. I don’t need to wait for you to decide. I’ve already decided for myself.” That wasn’t a breakup. It was a breakthrough. A moment that marked the difference between the woman I was and the woman I am becoming. The kind of woman who no longer confuses love with longing. Who doesn’t wait in silence hoping someone else will finally see her worth. For months, this chapter, this very chapter you’re reading remained unwritten. Not because I didn’t want to tell it. But because I wasn’t ready to live it.

I had to sit in my own silence. I had to let my tears do their work. I had to walk myself through moments of doubt and ask, ‘”Am I do1i1g the right thing?” And every time I come back to the same answer: Yes. Yes, because life is too short to live in limbo. Yes, because confusion is not love. Yes, because I am no longer willing to shrink to fit into someone else’s uncertainty. Healing doesn’t always come wrapped in poetry or beautiful timing. Sometimes it comes in hard choices, in quiet goodbyes, in the courage to finally say, “No more.” That email set me free because it was the first time in a long time, I stopped hoping he would do something and finally did something for me. It was the closure I gave myself. And it was enough.

Embracing the Reality of Time

We always say life is short. But do we really believe it? If we did we wouldn’t keep giving away our energy to people who don’t value it. We wouldn’t spend years trying to fix what’s already crumbled or waiting for someone to love us the way we’ve been loving them. We wouldn’t keep choosing “maybe” when we truly deserve “definitely.” Time has a way of teaching us through experience. When you’ve lived through heartbreak, disappointrr1ent, silence, and repeated letdowns, yon begin to look at life differently. You begin to value the moments where you feel seen. You start to realize that protecting your peace isn’t selfish, it’s sacred.

Let me be clear:

Age does not mean you have to settle

It doesn’t mean you should tolerate half-hearted love or situationships dressed up as commitments. You do not have to keep investing in people who only give you pocket change when you’ve been offering them gold. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for choosing yourself. Not your family. Not your partner. Not your past.

We all get tired. Tired of performing. Tired of pretending. Tired of wondering if this time will finally be different. And it’s in that fatigue that we often find the truth: You’re not being too much you’re just asking too little of those who don’t see your value. S0metimes, the greatest act of self-care is walking away from what’s unclear. Choosing clarity over comfort. Letting go before you break c0mpletely. Because life is not a dress rehearsal. There’s no replay button, no time refund, no apology that can give you back the years you spent stuck. This is it. Right now. Today. So, take your power back. No more wasting time on people who are unsure. No more placing your joy in someone else’s hands. And no more waiting for permission to live your life fully. You only have one life. Don’t just exist in it. Live in it Take the trip. Start the book. Dance in the living room. Wear what makes you feel radiant. Laugh loudly. Love intentionally. And most of all, choose yourself without guilt. Because of the time? Time doesn’t wait. And neither should you.

The Weight That Lifted

After I hit send on that email, I sat in silence. There was no dramatic music playing, no applause, no immediate sense of celebration. But there was a shift of stillness that felt like peace. I breathed differently. Not because I had “won” anything. Not because he responded with apologies or explanations. In fact, I didn’t even need a reply. The freedom didn’t come from him it came from me. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t holding my breath waiting for someone else’s decision. I had made my own. And with that, the weight I’d been silently carrying expectation, confusion, hoping he’d change, longing for clarity finally lifted. I wasn’t bitter. I wasn’t broken. I was liberated. Because sometimes, the pressure we think we’re under doesn’t come from someone else’s choices it comes from us refusing to choose ourselves. I had been waiting. Not just on a man, but on a moment. A moment where it would feel “okay” to put myself first. But here’s what I realized: There is never a perfect moment to choose yourself You just do it. You do it messy. You do it scared. You do it late. But you do it anyway. That next morning, I opened my calendar, and it hit me. It was full. Not with obligations I dreaded or empty space I was waiting to fill with someone else’s presence. No, it was full of things I wanted to do.

• A writing project I’d put off because my emotions were too raw.
• A trip I’d been meaning to take just because I love the ocean.
• A speaking event where I’d get to pour into other women’s lives.
• On Saturday afternoon I had reserved for me just me with a book, a blanket, and a hot cup of tea.

None of it required permission. None of them needed anyone else’s confirmation or attention. Every single item on that list was a declaration of freedom. And that’s when it hit me: This is what fun time really is. It’s not always about laughter and parties and plus­-ones. Ifs about freedom. Freedom to move without over-explaining. Freedom to rest without guilt. Freedom to prioritize joy without apology. Freedom to live life without waiting for s0meone else to hand you a green light. Fun time is not frivolous. It’s not selfish. It’s healing. It’s necessary. It’s a retum to self.

For far too long, I measured my happiness by how available s0meone else was to share it with me. Now, I understand that happiness begins when you stop waiting for someone else to catch up to your needs and start walking in the direction of your peace. I don’t regret the relationship. I don’t regret caring. I don’t regret hoping. But I’m done carrying the weight of waiting. The moment I chose me, everything shifted. The weight lifted. The path cleared. The joy retumed. And now? I’m moving forward lighter, freer, and completely unbothered by who didn’t choose me because I finally did.

Fun Doesn’t Always Include A Plus-One

Let me be honest with you. Somewhere along the way, many of us were taught directly or indirectly that joy is something we experience with someone. That laughter is louder when it’s shared, that holidays are better with a partner, and that “complete” is something we become when someone else enters our story. But here’s what life and love have taught me: You can be full, whole, and happy without a plus-one. Yes, it’s beautiful to share moments with someone. It’s special to love and be loved, to build memories with a partner, to walk hand-in-hand into life together. But those experiences don’t define your worth. They don’t dictate your ability to enjoy your life. Joy isn’t reserved for couples. Joy belongs to you. On your terms. In your time. Without needing permission or participation from anyone else. You can laugh over lunch with friends who love you deeply. You can dance barefoot in your living room at 7:30 p.m. with your favorite playlist blasting. You can plan a solo getaway, check into a hotel, order room service, and feel royalty without needing anyone to pull out your chair. You can buy yourself flowers and cook dinner just the way you like it. None of these moments are less. None of them are “missing something.” They are complete because you are. We often romanticize relationships, and while they can be beautiful, they aren’t the only source of fulfillment. In fact, the most fulfilling relationships, whether romantic, platonic, or professional flow best when we’ve first taken the time to build a relationship with ourselves.

Until we leam to embrace ourselves, our quirks, our quiet, our stories, our shadows we will always look for someone else to fill the spaces we haven’t claimed. And that’s too much pressure to place on any other human being. Learning to love your own company isn’t about rejecting connection. It’s about understanding that your worth doesn’t hinge on being “chosen” by someone else. You can choose yourself, and in doing so, you begin to attract love that mirrors the love you’ve already given yourself. So, when I talk about “fun time,” I’m not just talking about girls’ trips or game nights or date nights. I’m talking about the kind of fun that comes when you wake up and realize you have the power to make your own happiness. Fun time is buying that concert ticket for one. It’s grabbing your favorite coffee and walking through a park alone without loneliness. It’s feeling confident in your own skin, whether you’re in sweats or stilettos.

It’s saying, “I’m not waiting to live.” You’re not half of a whole. You’re a whole person right now, just as you are. So, stop telling yourself you need a plus-one to validate your joy.

You are the event. You are the main character. You are the invitation. And the truth is, once you begin to walk fully in that reality, any person who joins your life becomes an addition not a completion. Because you were never incomplete to begin with.

Behind Closed Doors

Let’s be honest: we’ve all done it. We’ve scrolled through social media and seen smiling couples on vacation, romantic dinners lit by candlelight, matching outfits on Sunday mornings, and captions full of hearts and “forever.” And somewhere inside, a quiet voice whispered\

“Why not me?” We don’t always say it out loud, but we feel it. We look at the lives of others and assume they have what we’re missing. That their love is more real. Their homes are more peaceful. Their relationships are more stable. Their lives are somehow more fulfilled. But let me remind you of something that’s easy to forget in a world obsessed with performance: What you see isn’t always what’s real. Behind every perfect selfie, there are four walls you don’t see.
Behind every filtered photo is a conversation that never happened, a feeling never validated, or a truth never spoken. Behind closed doors, people are hurting. They’re lonely in relationships that look “goals” to the outside world. They’re performing smiles while managing silence at home.

They’re holding hands in public but sleeping back-to-back at night. That’s the reality we don’t post. That’s the reality we don’t always talk about. And that’s why it’s so important to stop comparing and start healing. Because comparison is a thief. It steals your gratitude. It robs you of peace. And it distracts you from the work you actually can do the work of tending to your own space, your own healing, your own life. So, here’s what I’ve leamed: Instead of obsessing over the appearance of someone else’s relationship, open your own four walls. Take a good, honest look at what’s inside. Is it cluttered with unresolved pain? Is it filled with the echoes of someone else’s voice and none of your own? Are you ignoring the cracks in the walls because you’re too busy peeking into someone else’s window?

Open your space. Not for judgment but for healing

Sweep out the shame. Let some light in. Repaint the walls in your favorite color. Hang reminders of your worth. Light the candles you were saving for a “special occasion” and realize you are the occasion. This is your space. Your life. Your love story. And it deserves your full attention not your quiet resentment as you scroll through someone else’s highlights. Comparison cannot heal you. But honesty will. Intention will. Self-work will. Joy, even in solitude, will. Behind closed doors, we all have a story. But when you decide to open yours, clean it up, and reclaim it not for likes, not for approval, not for anyone else’s comfort, you begin to walk in a healing that comparison could never give you. So, stop peeking through the glass and start looking in the mirror. You don’t need what they have. You just need to come home to what’s already yours.

Wants vs. Need

We talk a lot about what we want. As women, we’re taught early on to desire affection, attention, commitment. We dream of romance, of someone who makes us feel special, who chooses us loudly and consistently. We want phone calls that last for hours. Texts that say, “thinking about you.” We want companionship. Intimacy. Loyalty. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting those things. Wanting love is human. Desiring connection is sacred. But how often do we pause and ask ourselves, “What do I truly need?” Not what would feel good in the moment. Not what looks good on lnstagram. Not what fills the silence for a night or a season. But what do I need to feel whole? To feel sale? To feel seen without performing? That’s where the real transformation begins. Wants are often about extemal gratification. Needs are about internal restoration

And for far too long, I chased what I wanted thinking it would satisfy what I needed I wanted attention but what I needed was peace. I wanted answers but what I needed was clarity.

I wanted someone to show up but what I needed was to stop waiting. I wanted love but what I needed was joy, without confusion or emotional chaos. I got tired of being “on hold” in someone else’ life waiting for them to decide what they wanted while ignoring what I needed. Because when your needs go unmet for too long, something inside you begins to dim. You become quieter. Smaller. You start accepting the bare minimum and calling it grace. You start normalizing inconsistency and calling it growth. And before you know it, you’re tangled in a relationship that feeds your wants but starves your soul. But here’s the truth I had to face and maybe you need to hear it too: You don’t need to settle for breadcrumbs when you were built for full meals. So, I decided. I stopped begging for attention and started giving myself the care I had been waiting for. I stopped making excuses for people’s absence and started showing up fully for myself. I stopped defining love by someone else’s ability to stay and started defining it by how well I was honoring me. Choosing your needs isn’t selfish. It’s survival. It’s sacred.

It’s the moment when you stop asking someone else to rescue you and realize you’ve had the key all along. So yes, I still want love. I want softness and partnership and laughter and someone to walk through life with. But I will never again abandon my needs in pursuit of my wants. And I hope you won’t either. You deserve love that doesn’t come with conditions. A peace that doesn’t require silence. A joy that doesn’t have to be earned. A space where you don’t have to shrink to be accepted. So today, ask yourself. What do I truly need to feel whole? And once you know… choose it. Boldly. Bravely. Unapologetically. Because you are a need not a want.

And the first person who should know that is you.

A New Valentine

Valentine’s Day tumed out just fine. More than fine, actually. After all the overthinking, after the conversations that went nowhere, after the letting go and choosing peace… I gave myself something that no one else could give me: my full presence. For the first time in a long time, I made Valentine’s Day about me. No pressure. No disappointment. No waiting on texts that never came or gestures that didn’t match the promises. Instead, I became my own Valentine. I got up, dressed in something that made me feel good not for anyone else, but for myself. I smiled at myself in the mirror. I went out and enjoyed the day on my terms. I ordered what I wanted. I walked slowly. I laughed fully. I took pictures, not for proof, but for memories. I soaked in every moment like the gift it was. It wasn’t about who didn’t show up for me,

It was about how I finally showed up for myself. That day, I didn’t feel lonely. I felt loved by the one person whose love I had neglected the most: me.

Valentine’s Day didn’t need to be canceled or rewritten. It just needed to be reclaimed. And I did that by letting go of the idea that the day only matters if someone else is holding your hand. S0metimes the best dates are the ones where you fall in love with your own company.

Where you realize that your joy doesn’t depend on someone across the table but 0n the voice within you that says, “I am worthy of love, just as I am.” That voice? It’s finally louder than the silence I once feared. It’s more comforting than the breadcrumbs I used to accept. It’s more constant than any conditional love I’ve ever chased. That voice reminded me: You are not waiting to be chosen. You already are. By you. For you.

So, here’s to the new kind of Valentine’s Day: Not the one centered around expectations and disappointments… but the one where you reclaim your joy, your voice, and your freedom. Where you buy your own flowers and don’t apologize for it. Where you toast to your healing, your journey, and your future. Where you show up, wholeheartedly, for the most important relationship you’ll ever have the one with: yourself.

Closing Thoughts: Choose You Every Time

This world? It’s always shifting. People come and go. Seasons change. Relationships evolve or dissolve. But through it all, you remain. You are your own constant. No matter who leaves, who stays, who shows up or who disappears, you are the one who walks through every moment of your life. And that means the most important decision you’ll ever make isn’t about choosing them… it’s about choosing you. That’s what I’ve done. I chose to move 0n. Not out of spite. Not because I needed revenge or replacement. But because I needed restoration. And with that choice came joy. Not a temporary kind. Not a joy that came with conditions or complications. But a quiet, steady joy that came from finding myself again. There’s something sacred about releasing what was never truly yours to hold. The moment I let go of the confusion … The waiting… The emotional tug-of-war… Something in me rose. Lighter. Freer. More focused.

Sometimes we carry things that were never ours, other people’s indecision, their silence, their inability to love us well. We carry it because we think holding on will eventually make it better. But all it does is weigh us down. And once we finally put it down, we pick up something so much more valuable:

Peace. Fun. Lightness. Purpose. Clarity.

That’s what this chapter has been about. Not just about moving on from someone but about moving closer to yourself. Loving yourself isn’t a trend or a hashtag. It’s a lifestyle. It’s a boundary. It’s a decision you make every single day when you say: “l matter too. I’m not an afterthought. I’m not an option. I’m the one.” So let me say it clearly: You only live once. Don’t waste that life waiting for someone to choose you. Choose yourself. Every time. Laugh as loud as you want. Love as deeply as you dare. Let’s go as often as necessary. Travel. Dance. Write. Rest. Celebrate. And never ever settle for joy that makes you second-guess your worth. You deserve love that doesn’t confuse you. You deserve peace that doesn’t pause when someone else walks away. You deserve to wake up every day and say, ”l’m proud of who I’ve become.” So yes, the world will keep shifting. People will change. But the best thing you can do, the most powerful thing you can do, is stay rooted in you. Keep showing up for yourself. Keep choosing for yourself. And let that be the greatest love story you ever tell.

Penn Points – Chapter 6: The Mirror Room – Daily Reflections

1. The mirror shows more than your face reflects your appearance. Who you are is shaped not just by what you’ve lived, but by how you’ve learned.
2. Reflection is practice, not performance. Take time to pause, breathe, and honor the quiet truths.
3. Even fleeting thoughts deserve your attention. The smallest stirrings often lead to the biggest breakthroughs.
4. Peace comes when you stop hiding from yourself. Your honesty is your healing.

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