Welcome to With Love, Racquel
Hey Love,
Thank you for stopping by, With Love, Racquel. This online journal consists of love letters written to myself about navigating motherhood, womanhood, toddlerhood, and life as a Black woman just trying to figure it all out.
I write these letters for wherever I am in the moment. Whether that looks like celebrating small victories, learning to give myself grace, and reminding myself that it's okay to rest and embrace softness. Through each letter, I am evolving without asking for permission, chasing dreams, and basking in life’s imperfections. I write about trusting myself when things feel uncertain, forgiving myself when I stumble, and being proud of myself for simply trying.
My hope is that in each letter, you see a little bit of yourself too. And maybe, just maybe, reading my words will meet you where you are, being exactly what you need to hear.
So whether the letter opens up with "Hey Mama," "Dear Sis," "Hey Love," or "Hey Friend," know that it is an open invitation for you to pull up a chair and feel a little less alone.
Welcome to my journal, my love. These letters may be written for me. But it is a space created just for US.
With Love,
Racquel
For women embracing softness, grace, and self-discovery.
For the second year in a row that my lover and I spent New Year's Day in full relaxation mode. And it’s become our new tradition. Here's why resting on January 1st is the most strategic thing I’ll do all year.
Happy New Year! I'm stepping into 2026 with a feeling of readiness that I haven't had in a long time. Not anxious or performative, just settled in knowing I'm exactly where I need to be. 2025 taught me the power of surrender and the beauty of trusting God's timing. So instead of rigid resolutions, I'm setting intentions that are invitations to my higher self. Here are 15 bold prayers for peace, purpose, joy, and abundance. May they meet me where I am and propel me into my next chapter.
There was a time when I apologized for simply existing. For needing rest, changing my mind, and choosing a life that didn’t fit expectations. But I don’t do that anymore. This is a list of all the things I refuse to apologize for in life. From protecting my mental health and energy to embracing growth, change, and becoming someone new. Because living well doesn’t require permission. It requires clarity.
Yesterday broke me. Not in a dramatic way, but in the way that only a day full of toddler meltdowns can achieve. From 6:30am to over two hours past her bedtime, it was relentless. If you're a mom getting her ass handed to her by toddlerhood right now, this one's for you.
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.
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're now a few days into 2026, and I'm feeling a shift. A soft, relaxed, intentional shift. And after sharing my personal prayers last week, I started thinking about what we, as a collective, deserve to experience. These are 40 things I believe we should all be calling into our lives this year. Some are tangible. Some shift our mindsets. But all of them are rooted in the fact that we deserve to live full, abundant, and joyful lives. So, let's call it all in.