What do you want to do in this life?

Well—that’s a loaded question, isn’t it?

“That depends. Do you know what you truly want? I know you think about it.”

I stared at my friend as he sipped his coffee shake, his gaze intense. We were sitting in this cozy diner in Brooklyn, and Kanyon (fur baby) was curled up in his carrier under the table. I didn’t expect the conversation to take this turn, but knowing him, he wasn’t about to let me off easy. I wasn’t mad about it; in fact, I appreciated him for it. Still, all I could do at that moment was pop a fry in my mouth.

Why was it so hard to answer his question? Was I afraid of what I truly wanted? He wasn’t wrong—I do think about it, a lot. But I was tired of just thinking about it. I wanted to do everything I dreamed of.

Have you ever felt this way? Or had someone ask you a question you knew you couldn’t fake your way through?

I’m used to writing my dreams down, keeping them private. Saying them out loud, though? That’s different. Maybe I thought people didn’t care, or that they wouldn’t get it. Or maybe I just liked the safety of silence—it didn’t make things so…real.

But that tactic hasn’t been working for me. So, after I finished my fry and realized he was still staring at me, I took a deep breath and said what I’d been afraid to admit:

“I want to know what it’s like to have a sound mind. To have a relationship with my parents where I can call them in the morning, laugh, and go about my day. I want to pour myself into ‘Adopted Black Girl,’ to share my voice on LinkedIn and really let go. To move forward. You know what I mean?”

I took another deep breath, realizing I was rushing my words. My leg was bouncing under the table. I put my hand on it to make it stop. Was I even looking at him?

He reached over and grabbed my hand, almost as if to say, “It’s okay. Talking about what you want doesn’t have to be scary.” I let him hold my hand, silently responding: I’m learning to let it not scare me.

I’ve been asked this question so many times in professional settings, and those answers were easy—career goals, academic plans, all the things you’re supposed to say. But personally? I’ve learned to be successful in the shadows, even though I feel the calling to step out, be bold, and be true to myself. Doing the work within doesn’t mean I can’t share it with others.

Maybe it’s time.

Have you felt this way? Maybe as kinship adoptees, it takes a little longer to carve out our paths, to decide what we truly want and go after it.

We finished our meal in that Brooklyn diner with an understanding. It wasn’t a loaded question at all—it was direct. Now, it’s time to make a plan.

Thank you for reading The Kinship Care Diaries: Entry 1. A public glimpse into my everyday life—unfiltered experiences, thoughts, and revelations. Come on the journey. It’s different, but this is me.

From my room with love,

Teisha