Navigating the Heat

It was the hottest day of the summer, and the weather app on my phone gave me no comfort. The forecast said it would feel like 110 degrees. I didn’t know whether to laugh at the absurdity of it—because, of course, it’s summer, and heatwaves are practically a given—or to groan in dread. Of all the days to be an adult, why did it have to be today? My pillow became my best friend, as I buried my face in it and let out a silent scream. But then, I remembered what my therapist had taught me when anxiety made an uninvited guest appearance.

So, I lifted my head, sat upright, and faced the door of my master bedroom, still clutching my pillow tightly against my chest. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and invited the tension in. I focused on the anxiety that the heat would inevitably bring and exhaled slowly, letting it drift away with each breath. I repeated the process three times. For a moment, I felt a calm sense of release. But, as expected, the relief didn’t last. A few minutes later, I was back where I started, face-first in the pillow, screaming in frustration. Self-pity—mission complete.

It was time to face the reality of the day. I had to choose what to wear. With the oppressive heat in mind, blue jean shorts were a must, but I couldn’t resist adding a little edge to my outfit. I pulled out my Timberland boots and a simple white v-neck women’s tee. The phrase “Keep. It. Simple. Sweetheart” echoed in my mind, a reminder to embrace minimalist style when everything else felt complicated. To elevate the look just a bit, I added a few accessories—a set of healing charms, my favorite gold Aries charm necklace, its small diamonds catching the light as they glistened delicately. For a piece of jewelry that appeared so simple, the diamonds had cost me around $250—eight tiny but brilliant stones that had withstood the test of time. As I admired my ensemble, I found my thoughts wandering, as they often did. I quickly snapped myself back into the present. Focus, I told myself. The day, while blisteringly hot, was still ahead of me.

I made my way to the bathroom, turned on the shower, and began to go through my morning routine. The steam from the hot water filled the air, a small luxury that helped me shake off any lingering fatigue. I always relished the feeling of the hot mist against my skin before stepping into the shower. My ex had once mocked me for liking my showers lava-hot. “Nobody likes a hot shower,” he would laugh. Honestly, I was too annoyed to appreciate his ‘advice.’ That, of course, was just one of many reasons he was now my ex. His judgmental tone had always made me feel small, unworthy. But I wasn’t staying in that negative space anymore. I undressed, letting go of the past as I stepped into the stream of water, the heat washing away any remnants of anxiety or frustration.

The shower, though brief, felt rejuvenating. I didn't need to wash my hair today, as it was styled in faux locs for the last two weeks, neatly tucked under an extra-large shower cap. The longer I stayed in the shower, the more my mind would begin to wander, so I kept it short—just ten minutes, though it felt like much longer. I stepped out, wrapping a towel around myself and stepping onto my plush memory foam mat that lay at the base of the shower. It wasn’t much, but it brought a little luxury into my otherwise modest one-bedroom apartment.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I repeated the affirmation my therapist had taught me: “You are more valuable than what you’ve been told.” I said it three times, hoping the words would sink in, even if just for today. I’d gotten into the habit of saying these words, even when I didn’t entirely believe them, because one day, I hoped they would be my truth.

After brushing my teeth with my $0.99 Colgate toothpaste and flossing—because I was determined to take care of myself, even on days when it felt harder than usual—I rinsed my mouth, feeling the freshness spread across my senses. I grabbed my towel, wrapped it around me enter my bedroom and turned on my morning affirmation mantras. The voice from the speaker filled the room with words of confidence and peace. I began to get dressed, playing the mental game of deciding how much or how little effort I wanted to put into my appearance today.

I skipped the Vaseline this time—no need for the extra stickiness in this heat. Instead, I applied a thin layer of baby oil to my skin, the scent light but soothing. I briefly considered glamorizing my face, but quickly dismissed the idea. My natural look, the one God gave me, was enough for the day. Maybe a little mascara to open my eyes, a slick of lipstick, and a touch of lip gloss for some shine. It was simple, but cute—just the way I liked it.

Finally, I headed to my closet, scanning the row of shoes I’d neatly placed on the floor beneath my hanging clothes. I grabbed my beloved Timberland boots. There was something empowering about wearing them. They made me feel strong, grounded, like I could take on whatever the world had to throw at me. It wasn’t just that they were rugged boots; it was the way they transformed my energy. When I wore them, I felt in control, confident, and ready to take on the day.

I finished my look with a spritz of soft orchid, tangerine, and vanilla perfume I had bought from a boutique in the United Arab Emirates. The fragrance lingered like a whispered promise of adventure, a subtle reminder that I could go anywhere, do anything. I grabbed my black-and-gold $40 bag from TJ Maxx—a practical choice, but the perfect accent for my outfit—and paused at the door. I scanned the room one last time, making sure I hadn’t forgotten anything important.

After double-checking the bathroom mirror and smoothing my shirt one last time, I grabbed my bag and sunglasses and headed out the door. The weight of the day, the heat, the lingering anxiety—it was still there, but I was determined to shake it off. I threw on my sunglasses and locked the door behind me and made my way down the staircase of my apartment complex, the heat pressing against me like an invisible force as I stepped out into the unforgiving sunlight. I squinted, adjusting to the light, and found my white Genesis GV80 parked in its usual spot—shiny, sleek, and a reminder of how far I’d come.

There was something almost comforting about the car, like it understood the weight of my days. My 2020 White Genesis GV80 wasn’t just any car—it was a symbol of accomplishment, an achievement in itself. As I slid into the driver’s seat, the leather cooled under me, and I adjusted the settings, ensuring everything felt just right. The soft purr of the engine started up, and I felt the subtle hum of luxury beneath me. It wasn’t just a vehicle; it was a sanctuary on wheels. The perfect balance between elegance and power, a car that made me feel like I could conquer anything ahead of me, no matter how hot the day or chaotic the world.

I plugged in my destination—grocery store, of course. It was early enough that the crowds hadn’t yet begun to swell, but I knew that would change soon. The store would be chaotic by midday, filled with people scrambling to grab what they needed before the weekend rush. As I pulled out of my spot, I put my car in drive and eased into the streets, the cool air from the air conditioning providing a momentary respite from the sun’s relentless heat.

Driving through the neighborhood, I couldn’t help but notice how the summer heat seemed to bring out a different rhythm in people. Some were already walking their dogs or heading out for errands, but there was a sort of slow motion to everything—everyone was moving with a sense of languid lethargy, as if the sun had drained their energy and willpower.

I turned onto the main street, the traffic already beginning to pick up. I was thankful I hadn’t left it too late. I’ve learned that if you don’t get to the store early, you risk the chaos of finding a parking spot, battling with crowded aisles, and dealing with people’s impatience. The store would be packed in just a few hours, and the thought of navigating it with a crowd made me cringe. I had enough to handle today—no need to add unnecessary stress to the list.

Turning into the parking lot of the grocery store, I noticed a few spots open near the front, which was a rare blessing. I grabbed one quickly, maneuvering my car into the space with ease. My large SUV was a bit of a tight fit in some of these smaller parking lots, but today, it felt like the parking gods were on my side. I put the car in park, took a deep breath, put on my sunglasses from my glove compartment and grabbed my bag before stepping out.

The heat hit me like a wall, and I almost regretted not bringing a hat. The sun reflected off the pavement, making the entire parking lot feel like an oven. Still, I walked toward the entrance, my Timberland boots striking the pavement with each step. The familiar jingle of the grocery store's automatic doors welcoming me inside was almost a relief. The air conditioning inside felt like a cool breeze from the heavens, and I exhaled, appreciating the brief moment of comfort.

As I moved through the aisles, my mind went blank for a moment, absorbed by the ordinary task of choosing fruits, vegetables, and other daily necessities. The feeling of a small cart under my hand, the familiar fluorescent lights buzzing above me, and the hum of other customers in the background—it was grounding in a way I didn’t expect. The mundane had a way of helping me reconnect with myself, to ground me when everything else seemed like it was constantly moving too fast.

After finishing my shopping and paying for the items, I walked back out to the car, the bag of groceries in hand, and slid into the cool leather seat once more. It was time to get home and face whatever the rest of the day would bring. But for now, at least, I could breathe a little easier. The worst of the heat hadn’t hit yet, the tasks of the day were checked off, and as I started the engine again, I felt just a bit more in control.