I used to be afraid of tools like ChatGPT. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought, What if it steals my information? That fear came from not knowing enough. It also stemmed from a deeper place. It was the kind that whispers, this space wasn’t made for you.
As a Black woman, I’ve learned that hesitation often comes from history. It stems from being told to be careful. We are advised not to take up too much space and to play it safe. But as I sat with that thought, something shifted.
I started remembering those TV shows where wealthy people spoke into the air. Their digital assistant answered like a modern-day “Jeeves”: “Would you like me to write that for you?” For so long, technology like that seemed reserved for someone else — someone with privilege or power.
But the truth is, we have that power too. Everyday people — creatives, caregivers, teachers, entrepreneurs, dreamers — can use these same tools to imagine, build, and grow. It’s not about status. It’s about perspective.
When I reframed my fear, I realized this: technology isn’t stealing my creativity. It’s helping me organize, amplify, and honor it. It’s giving shape to ideas that once stayed trapped in my head or hidden in my notes.
AI has become a quiet creative space for me — a place to process, brainstorm, and write freely. It’s not replacing me; it’s reflecting me back to myself.
Sometimes, the real work isn’t learning how to use new tools. It’s learning to trust ourselves enough to use them.
Reflection Prompt:
Where are you still hesitating because of fear? What might happen if you reframed that fear as an invitation?
Author’s Note:
This reflection began as a simple thought during one of my quiet walks. I realized how often fear hides behind unfamiliar things. For years, I kept ideas locked in my voice notes, too afraid they weren’t “real writing.” Using technology became part of my healing process. It served as a reminder that creativity doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be honest. What once felt like a threat has turned into a trusted companion for clarity and growth.
By Tonia Tyler | #ConfidentStrides | Sweet N Social
If this reflection spoke to you, follow Sweet N Social for future entries on creativity, courage, and walking through change.
Some mornings, the walk begins long before my feet hit the pavement.
Today was one of those days. I stepped outside carrying the leftovers of the weekend. It was not anger but a faint frustration still sitting in my chest. A conversation with my husband. A few lingering comments from Friday’s networking call. The mental residue that stays with you even after you think you’ve moved on.
So I did what I always do when my mind feels cluttered: I walked.
Phase 1: Walking Out With What You’re Carrying
The first stretch of my walk wasn’t graceful. It was honest.
I was talking out loud — not to fix anything, not to judge anything, just to let the thoughts untangle. This is the part people don’t see. The messy part. The part where everything comes out exactly as it sits.
But I’ve learned something over the years: If I don’t let it out, I’ll drag it all day.
Phase 2: The Clearing
About 35 minutes in, something shifted.
My breath settled. My pace softened. And for the first time that morning, I looked up.
The leaves were showing off in their fall colors. A neighbor was burning leaves. Someone else was out walking their dog. Life was happening all around me — steady, simple, unbothered.
That’s when the walk did what it always does: It steadied me.
Walking has a way of regulating my emotions without permission. It lets the mind go from tight to open, scattered to spacious.
Phase 3: The Re-Focus
The final 10–15 minutes became a completely different walk.
My mind was no longer replaying conversations or frustrations. Instead, it opened up to direction. I considered what I want to build. I thought about how I want to show up. I decided where I want to place my energy today.
Ideas started forming about organizing my business more strategically. Clarity began replacing clutter. Focus began replacing frustration.
And all of this came not from forcing myself to think — but from letting myself walk.
Why This Matters
This morning reminded me of something I often forget:
My walk isn’t just exercise. It’s not about discipline or step counts. It’s where my mind clears, my spirit regulates, and my creativity wakes up.
It’s how I get myself back before the day begins.
That’s the anatomy of a good morning walk — Confident Strides style. A little processing, a little presence, and eventually, a whole lot of clarity.
Reflection Prompt
What emotional or mental “leftovers” do you carry into your mornings — and how might movement help you release them?
If this reflection resonates with you, follow along for more stories on movement and mindset. These are everyday moments that shape leadership and personal growth.
Author’s Note
This walk is just one of many that continue to teach me how clarity meets motion. Each step brings me back to myself — and back to what matters.
By Tonia Tyler | #ConfidentStrides | Sweet N Social
The waves at Fort Ord have a rhythm all their own. Some crash loud and proud, spraying salt mist high into the air. Others roll in quietly, curling under themselves before disappearing back into the sea.
I’m sitting on the sand with my phone in hand. I am waiting for that perfect shot. It’s the kind that makes you feel the power and pull of the ocean even through a screen. Every time I look away, it occurs. The big wave comes. It’s the perfect one. It’s the moment I thought I was ready for.
It makes me laugh a little. There’s something poetic about missing the moment because I was too busy trying to catch it.
The Illusion of Control
As a photographer, I’ve learned that timing is everything. But here, sitting by the water, I realize that control is an illusion.
You can prepare your camera, adjust your focus, line up your frame — but the waves don’t act on command. They come when they come. The ocean has no interest in your readiness or your plans.
And as an entrepreneur, that lesson hits home. How many times have I tried to line up everything just right before launching something new? Waiting for the “perfect” moment — the right lighting, the right energy, the right audience? And still, somehow, the timing never feels exact.
Because life, like the ocean, has its own rhythm.
Presence Over Perfection
I put my phone down and just watch for a while. Without the pressure to capture, I start to see. I watch the shimmer of sunlight on the water. I notice the way each wave builds quietly before bursting open. I appreciate the stillness between them.
There’s beauty in those in-between moments too, the pauses between the noise.
Sometimes the best thing you can do is simply sit and watch. You’ll never catch the perfect shot, and maybe that’s the point.
It’s not about catching the moment — it’s about being there for it.
The Entrepreneur’s Ocean
Entrepreneurship can feel a lot like watching waves. One moment, everything’s calm — steady clients, steady flow, steady confidence. The next, the tide shifts. A new idea rushes in, or a plan you counted on crashes before it lands.
And still, we show up. We adjust, breathe, and wait for the next wave.
The ocean teaches something that no business book can: You can’t force momentum. You can only prepare your stance and trust your footing.
When the wave comes, you ride it. When it doesn’t, you rest and watch.
The Gift of Surrender
There’s a strange peace that comes with letting go of control. Once I stop trying to expect the next wave, I notice how everything slows down. My breath slows, my mind calms, and even my heartbeat eases.
It reminds me that presence isn’t passive. It’s an active choice to be here, now — not somewhere in the “what if.”
The ocean doesn’t apologize for its unpredictability. It simply is. And maybe that’s what balance looks like. It’s about learning to move in rhythm with what’s unfolding. This is instead of fighting against it.
A Lesson in Timing
The afternoon sun glistens on the water. I look out and catch it just in time. A perfect, towering wave curls into gold. It’s magnificent, and this time, I don’t reach for my phone. I just watch.
The foam curls, the light dances, and the moment passes — but not really. It’s still with me, imprinted deeper than any photo could have captured.
The peace isn’t in freezing the moment. It’s in feeling it.
The Takeaway
Maybe we spend too much time trying to catch life instead of living it. Trying to control timing instead of trusting it. I also learned a lesson doesn’t end here — the ocean always finds another way to speak.
The waves will keep coming, whether I’m ready or not. And maybe that’s the beauty of it. It’s knowing that everything meant for me will arrive when I’m here enough to get it.
The waves come when they come. The peace is in being there when they do.
Reflection Prompt
Where in your life are you trying to control the timing instead of simply being present for the flow?
Author’s Note
This piece was one of three reflections that arrived on the same afternoon at Fort Ord State Beach. Each carried its own message. Yet, this one asked me to slow down. It encouraged me to look up from the screen. I needed to witness life as it was. I shouldn’t try to capture or control it.
If this reflection resonated with you, follow Sweet N Social. You will find more stories about presence, growth, and everyday lessons in motion.
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By Tonia Tyler | #ConfidentStrides | Sweet N Social
Fort Ord is one of those places I once dreamed of being stationed when I first joined the Army. Back then, it wasn’t just about location — it was about possibility. The ocean nearby, the cool breeze, the idea of serving where land meets sea. I never got that assignment. Life, as it tends to do, had other plans.
But here I am years later. I am sitting on Fort Ord State Beach. The sun is warm on my face, and the sound of the Pacific rolls steadily against the shore. It’s October, and the air is softer than I remember it being when I last visited in August. That trip was foggy, cold, and gray. It was the kind of day that makes you pull your jacket tight. It makes you quicken your pace.
Today is different. Today is golden.
When Life Comes Full Circle
It’s funny how life loops back around. Every base I ever wanted to be stationed at, my son somehow found his way to. It’s almost poetic — like he’s walking the same map, but on his own terms.
It hit me when I first realized that. Maybe not getting what I wanted back then wasn’t a loss. It was preparation. Maybe my journey wasn’t about being there first but about understanding the path so he could walk it stronger.
Watching him now — serving, leading, growing — I can see pieces of myself reflected in his path. The determination. The discipline. The quiet pride. And maybe even the longing for something bigger than yourself. It’s humbling to realize that our dreams sometimes outlive us, continuing through those we love.
The Sound of Then and Now
As I walk the dunes, I can almost hear echoes of what once was. Soldiers were running drills. Conversations were carried by the wind. I can remember the thud of boots on sand. Back in the day, this land was alive with military rhythm and purpose. Now, the base is quiet, transformed into trails and open beach.
It’s peaceful in a way that feels earned. The hum of the waves replaces the cadence of marching feet. The gulls cry where orders once rang out.
I pause to imagine the view through my younger eyes. I recall the ambition, the urgency, and the belief. I thought the next station would be the one that made it all make sense. I believed the next assignment would do that too. I even thought the next goal would give clarity. And now, decades later, I’m here not as a soldier. I am a woman, a mother, a creator. I am standing still long enough to let the lesson find me.
A Different Kind of Arrival
Back then, I thought fulfillment came from the next accomplishment — the next title, the next milestone, the next “station.”
Now, I know better. Sometimes, the places we long for return not to test us, but to show us how much we’ve grown.
Sitting on the warm sand, I watch the waves crash with a rhythm that commands respect. There’s no rush in their arrival. Each one comes when it’s ready — full of power, grace, and inevitability.
Maybe that’s the quiet wisdom of life in motion: everything comes when it’s supposed to.
Gratitude in Motion
It’s strange how gratitude sneaks up on you. You can’t always chase it. Sometimes it finds you in moments like this. You’re not trying to make sense of anything. You’re just breathing and being.
Here, the sunlight glints off the water like tiny medals, and I can’t help but smile at the symmetry. The military once stood for duty and structure for me — now it stands for lineage, connection, and legacy. I’m proud of where I’ve been, but even prouder of how far I’ve come.
The younger me wanted orders to Fort Ord. The woman sitting here today realizes she didn’t need them. She just needed time, growth, and faith to circle back in her own way.
Full-Circle Truths
There’s a peace in realizing you didn’t miss your moment. It was simply waiting for you to become the person who could recognize it.
Fort Ord may no longer be an active base, but it still holds presence, purpose, and power. Standing here feels like being in a memory that has healed itself. The should-haves and could-haves have been washed away by the tide.
I close my eyes, breathe in the salt air, and listen to the ocean’s steady voice reminding me:
You’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
I didn’t realize then that this beach still had more to teach me.
Reflection Prompt
What parts of your story have come full circle in unexpected ways? What dreams once felt delayed but returned at the right time?
Author’s Note
This piece was written after an unexpected moment of stillness on the beach at Fort Ord. What began as a simple walk became a bridge between who I was and who I am now. That quiet sense of completion stayed with me, which is why this story felt important to capture and share.
If this reflection spoke to you, follow Sweet N Social for more stories on movement. Discover meaning and notice the lessons that rise in everyday life.
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You can join the Confident Strides community on Mighty Networks. Share your own full-circle moments and walk this journey with others.
By Tonia Tyler | #ConfidentStrides | Sweet N Social
There are moments in conversation when someone reflects something back to you that feels both familiar and foreign. You hear the words, you recognize the truth in them, and yet… you’re surprised. Almost confused. Almost wondering, “Where did that come from?”
I had one of those moments recently. A response landed so deeply that it stopped me in my tracks. It was accurate — deeply accurate — but it felt like it appeared from nowhere. For a second, I wondered if the insight belonged to me. Was it being handed to me outright?
But the truth is this: It was mine. I just hadn’t fully met that version of myself yet.
Sometimes we speak from deeper places than we realize. We share from intuition, experience, muscle memory, lived wisdom. We speak in fragments — and then someone reflects those fragments back to us fully formed.
It can feel startling. It can feel like revelation. It can feel like someone is seeing a part of you you didn’t realize was showing.
But often, what they’re reflecting isn’t new. It’s simply clearer than how you said it.
We grow so steadily that we don’t always recognize our own growth until it’s mirrored back.
Insight doesn’t always arrive neatly. Wisdom doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes we’re already living into the next version of ourselves before we know how to speak from it.
When someone reflects that back, it can feel like meeting yourself for the first time. They highlight the clarity, the depth, and the truth you didn’t realize you were revealing.
Not the old you. Not the uncertain you. But the becoming you.
The version that’s been forming quietly through walking, observing, practicing stillness, listening inward, and paying attention to life’s subtle lessons.
So when a reflection surprises me now, I’m learning not to dismiss it. Instead, I pause and think:
“Maybe this is me — just a version of me I haven’t fully grown into yet.”
Self-awareness doesn’t always show up as a breakthrough. Sometimes it seems softly — through someone else’s words — inviting you to recognize the deeper truth you’ve already spoken.
And when that happens, you’re not meeting them. You’re meeting yourself.
Reflection Prompt
When was the last time someone reflected something back to you? Did it feel true, even before you fully recognized it yourself?
Author Notes
This reflection came from a moment when something said in conversation felt deeply true but unexpected. It helped me realize that sometimes we speak from a wiser, more evolved part of ourselves without knowing it. When someone reflects that truth back, it can feel like meeting a new version of ourselves. This piece reminds us that growth often happens quietly beneath the surface. Sometimes, we need a mirror to recognize it.
If this reflection spoke to you, follow Sweet N Social for more stories and lessons. You’ll find insights on walking, awareness, and the quiet ways we grow.
By Tonia Tyler | #ConfidentStrides | Sweet N Social
Confident Strides: The Podcast invites listeners to think about the value of attendance over perfection. This episode shares a personal story at Fort Ord State Beach. It explores how focusing on capturing moments can distract us. This distraction can prevent us from truly experiencing them. It highlights the importance of letting go, being existing, and finding confidence in the unpredictability of life’s waves.
Show Notes
In this episode, we walk through:
A full-circle moment years in the making
The tension between capturing a moment and living it
What the ocean teaches about timing, release, and acceptance
How presence builds confidence in unexpected ways
Why perfectionism often robs us of the very peace we’re seeking
Key themes:
Presence over perfection
Letting go of control
Mindful movement
Personal growth in motion
Nature as a teacher
Favorite Moment
“The waves come when they come. The peace is in being there when they do.”
Transcript
Tonia Tyler (00:00) Welcome to Confidence Tries, the podcast. Quiet moments, powerful insights, a space to walk, reflect, and grow.
Speaker (00:10) So picture this. I’m standing on this wide, quiet beach, phone in hand, just totally determined to snap the perfect wave. But every single time, I thought, this is it. The moment slipped right past me. I couldn’t help but laugh at myself after the third missed shot. That’s happened to me too, and it’s so frustrating. There’s that urge to capture something amazing. But while you’re busy fiddling with your phone,
the thing you wanted to catch is already gone. It’s like you’re so focused on preserving the perfect memory, you end up missing out on actually experiencing it. Exactly. And then it hit me, how many of those moments have I let pass by? Just because I was too wrapped up in trying to control them, life’s got this wild way of rolling on, like those waves, whether we’re ready or not. What surprised me most is how much calmer things feel when you just let go of trying to capture it all. I mean,
You stop chasing the perfect timing and just soak up what’s right in front of you, even if it’s messy or unpredictable. Totally. When I finally lowered my phone and just watched, it was this totally different experience. There was this one wave, tall and golden in the late sun. And for once I just took it in. No photo, no proof, just memory. Moments like that stick with you, don’t they? It almost feels freeing, not needing to hold on to everything or get every detail right.
You get this sense of peace from just being present, even if you’re not capturing it for later. Yeah, and it makes me wonder how often we mistake control for confidence, if I can just get the shot or plan the outcome, then maybe everything will feel secure. But really, it’s the letting go where the real confidence is. Funny you say that, because every time I’ve tried to force things to go my way, it never quite works out. But when I just show up and let things unfold,
That’s when I actually feel grounded. It’s a totally different kind of trust. One that’s about being present, not perfect. That actually reminds me how important it is to walk at your own pace. The ocean’s not rushing for anyone, and neither should we. There’s this quiet strength in just moving forward. Even if it doesn’t look picture perfect. Absolutely, and I think sometimes we need those reminders. You can’t control the waves, but you can choose to be there, fully.
for whatever comes. That’s how real confidence grows step by step, right where you are.
Tonia Tyler (02:41) Your path, your pace, your confidence.
Reflection Prompt
Where in your life are you trying so hard to capture the perfect moment that you’re missing the one right in front of you?
By Tonia Tyler | #ConfidentStrides | Sweet N Social
If this episode spoke to you, join the Confident Strides community on Mighty Networks to share your insights and continue the conversation: https://movement-confident.mn.co/
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