It’s a sunny Sunday morning on March 2, 2025, and I’m standing in my kitchen, whisking eggs with vanilla extract. My wombfruits’s laughter mingles with the sizzle of butter melting on the griddle, and my mom is measuring cinnamon with the precision only Jamaican mamas seem to possess. Seven days ago, I made a promise – to myself and to one of my closest friends – that I would take exactly one week to grieve, to feel, to process. Today marks day seven, and I chose to make French toast.

But before I tell you about this morning’s healing breakfast ritual, I need to acknowledge the village that carried me through these past seven days. Despite one of the many lies my ex tried to sell me, I rediscovered some truths: I was never alone. I was never without support. I was never without love.

The Seven-Day Timeline: A Capricorn’s Gift

Leave it to a Capricorn to give you the structure you need when your world feels like it’s crumbling. “Seven days,” he said from his home in Vancouver. “Give yourself seven days to feel everything, and then we move forward.” In a world where everyone tells you to “take all the time you need,” sometimes what you actually need is a deadline for grief. A container for the pain. A timeline for healing.

When Your Village Shows Up

It’s funny how the universe works. In the past week, my community showed up in ways I couldn’t have imagined. My other Capricorn friend – one of only two Capricorns I actually like and love (sorry, not sorry) – reminded me of who I am when I’m not trying to shrink myself for someone else’s comfort.

Then there was Tanya. Calling her just a friend doesn’t do justice to our bond. She adopted me as her little sister when we were teenagers—she’s two years older than me—and she’s the closest thing to a real sister I’ve ever had. Sometimes, people come back into your life exactly when you need them, proving that true sisterhood doesn’t keep count of the years apart.

Tanya also did something unexpected this week—she made me a Sukihana fan. She introduced me to a song called You Forgot to Love Me, and the lyrics hit me in a way I wasn’t ready for. That song summed up exactly what the past seven days have been like. For a minute, I didn’t want to hear music anymore because it hurt too much. But then I remembered—music has always helped me heal. I just have to find the right melody with the right words. As Bob Marley said, when music hits you, you feel no pain. That realization led me to create the Keep Moving Forward playlist on Apple Music (listen here). It’s a mix of everything that reminds me to keep going, keep choosing myself, and keep remembering that I am whole, even when my heart is in pieces.

And then there’s Ika, who made sure I had work opportunities despite navigating her own storms. She understood something crucial: I needed not just emotional support but financial independence. She knew that keeping busy and focusing on my goals was the best medicine for a healing heart.

The Recovery Toolbox

When you’re breaking up with someone you still love but know you can’t grow with, it’s like quitting another bad habit. That’s why I reached out to my sponsor. With 2,476 days of sobriety under my belt (yes, I’m still counting), I knew this process all too well. My sponsor reminded me that the principles that kept me sober since May 22, 2018, are the same ones that would get me through this: honesty, hope, faith, courage, integrity, willingness, humility, self-discipline, love, perseverance, spirituality, and service.

The Foundation of Family

My mother and children—they’ve been my constants. This morning, watching my kids have fun with the powdered sugar (and yes, getting it everywhere), I remembered something powerful: we had routines before. We had joy before. We had love before. Nothing fundamental has been lost because the most important ingredients were always right here.

The French Toast Revolution

So this morning, we made French toast. But not just any French toast – we made healing French toast. Here’s our recipe for anyone else who needs a little healing today:

Healing French Toast Recipe

(Because healing should be shared)

Ingredients:

• 12 slices thick-cut bread (preferably day-old brioche or Texas toast)

• 6 large eggs

• 1½ cups vanilla oat milk

• 2 tablespoons vanilla extract

• 2 tablespoons granulated sugar

• 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

• ¼ teaspoon nutmeg (optional)

• ¼ teaspoon salt

• 4 tablespoons butter for griddle

For the Blueberry Syrup:

• Frozen blueberries

• Butter

• Brown sugar

• Dark Vanilla

• Nutmeg

• Cinnamon

• Pinch of salt

Instructions:

1. Heat your griddle to 350°F (medium heat).

2. In a large shallow bowl, whisk together:

• Eggs

• Vanilla oat milk

• Vanilla extract

• Sugar

• Cinnamon

• Nutmeg

• Salt

3. Dip each slice of bread in the egg mixture for about 10 seconds per side, allowing the excess to drip off.

4. Add 1 tablespoon of butter to the griddle and spread it around.

5. Place 4-5 slices on the griddle (depending on size).

6. Cook for 3-4 minutes per side until golden brown.

7. Repeat with remaining slices, adding butter to the griddle as needed.

Pro Tips:

• Don’t soak the bread too long, or it will become soggy.

• Keep finished pieces warm in a 200°F oven while cooking the rest.

• Test the griddle temperature with a drop of water—it should dance and evaporate quickly.

Moving Forward

The thing about healing is that it doesn’t mean forgetting. It doesn’t mean erasing the past. It means taking what you’ve learned, holding it with grace, and choosing to move forward anyway. It means recognizing that while some routines are lost, new ones are waiting to be created.

To My Village

This French toast, this healing, this moving forward – it’s all possible because of you. To my Capricorn friends who gave me structure; to Tanya, who reminds me what sisterhood truly means (and who made sure I had the right music for my healing); to Ika, who keeps me focused on my goals; to my sponsor, who gave me perspective, my counsellor who gave me tools, my mother who gave me strength, my children who gave me reasons, and everyone who reminded me that I was never alone – thank you.

And to anyone reading this who feels alone in their healing – you’re not. Your village might be waiting in the wings you didn’t even know you had. Sometimes, healing looks like French toast on a Sunday morning. Sometimes, it looks like a friend setting a seven-day timeline. Sometimes, it seems like work opportunities, a sponsor’s wisdom, children’s laughter, or your mother’s knowing smile.

Today, healing tastes like French toast and homemade blueberry syrup. Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is another chance to choose joy, to keep moving forward, and to remember that we are never as alone as our fears would have us believe.

Because that’s the thing about community – it proves that the lies isolation tells us were never true to begin with.

With love and gratitude,

Anya