Private Proof
This should be a note buttttt it’s too long to be one so yeah an article right!
Ride with me pls
Today I learned that goals mean different things to different people.
Different strokes for different folks, right?
What might look ordinary to one person could be the biggest dream for someone else.
Today, I decided to take a different approach, I needed to let little Adunni know that I still got her, and that I'm not giving up on her dreams.
A quick introduction to her:
Little Adunni was that girl who was different from everyone else.
Her thinking stood out, too big, too deep, so people often ignored her.
She had big dreams and held onto kthem for years.
She was always at the top of her class, the girl who loved education a little too much (lol can't blame her, she just loved learning).
Knowledge was her comfort, her safe place.
But then life happened.
She was shattered. Broken. Forced to grow up too quickly.
And somewhere along the way, she almost lost herself.
Then came adult Adunni, the one who tried to gather all those broken pieces of little Adunni and mold her back into her beautiful self.
She promised little Adunni that she'd take it from here, that she wouldn't fail her.
Now, little Adunni is holding on to those very words, hoping that one day she'll smile in peace, knowing she did it.
So what's the new approach?
I decided to open a new journal and name it PRIVATE PROOF.
I divided it into four sections:
1. Opening Reflection - a space to remind myself that I'm not behind, I'm just growing.
• 2. My Goals — small but mighty goals. These aren't my biggest dreams (I do have goals that scare me &), but these are turning points - proofs of self-trust, of reclaiming my power.
• 3. Proofs in Progress - tiny updates, milestones, and small wins that all deserve celebration.
4. Gratitude Moments & Reflections - moments of peace, progress, or joy, and thoughts on what I'm learning or letting go of.
This is more than just a list of goals, m it's healing work disguised as ambition.
It's about reclaiming my power.
It's me saying: I deserve to give myself everything I once waited for others to give me.
These goals are revolutions in my story, proof that little Adunni, the dreamer who held on even when life wasn't kind, was right to keep believing.
Now that l've written it down, it feels like manifestation with intention, anchoring it into reality.
It's not a wish anymore.
It's a timeline.
I've already started.
Every word is part of my proof of becoming.