Sometimes the hardest person to face is yourself.
I've spent much of my professional life helping people and businesses understand who they are, what they stand for, and how they want to show up in the world.
But somewhere along the way, I realized I needed to do some of that same work on myself.
Not as a business owner. Not as a strategist. Not as somebody's friend, partner, or family member.
Just me, Anisa Kenyatta Parks.
Who am I when I remove the titles? When relationships change? When the life I envisioned doesn't turn out the way I expected? When I make mistakes? When I'm forced to start over?
Those are the questions that led me to create The Mirror.
I've Always Been a Writer
I've been writing this blog inconsistently for about four to five months. Again, as I said inconsistently, but I've been writing.
Usually, something would happen in my life. An experience, a conversation, a disappointment, or a realization that made me look at something differently. And I'd write about it for The Mirror. I'll post and maybe connect it to LinkedIn, Instagram and Facebook.
There wasn't a content calendar. No posting schedule. No strategy behind it.
Something happened. I had something to say. So I wrote.
And I was proud of what I wrote.
I loved being able to take something I experienced, process it through my own perspective, and turn it into something meaningful. Writing gave me an opportunity to understand what I was feeling and sometimes discover things about myself I hadn't even realized.
But somewhere along the way, I stopped doing it as much.
I was still writing, of course. Captions. Manifestos. Brand messaging. Strategies. Proposals. Words for businesses, clients, and everybody else.
And I love that work. It's part of who I am.
But I realized something.
I miss writing just to write.
Not because there's a deadline. Not because a client needs something. Not because an algorithm requires another piece of content.
I miss writing because something is on my mind and I want to explore it.
I miss finding the words for an experience that I couldn't quite explain before I sat down to write.
I miss the freedom of having an opinion, questioning it, challenging myself, and allowing my thoughts to take me somewhere unexpected.
I miss writing for me.
And I want that part of myself back.
That's another reason I'm creating The Mirror. I want to return to something I've always enjoyed without turning it into another obligation.
There may be weeks when I have plenty to say. Other times, I may need to live a little before I have something worth sharing.
And I'm okay with that.
I want writing to be a practice of expression, not another measure of productivity.
Why The Mirror?
Because a mirror doesn't always show us what we want to see.
Sometimes we look at ourselves and feel proud of how far we've come. Other times, we see things we'd rather ignore. Our insecurities. Our mistakes. Our fears. The ways we've contributed to situations that didn't turn out the way we wanted.
And sometimes we see someone we barely recognize because life has changed us so much.
I've experienced all of that.
At 50, I've loved. I've lost. I've outgrown relationships. I've made mistakes that cost me things I valued. I've questioned my worth and wondered whether I was capable of achieving the things I wanted.
I've also discovered strength I didn't know I had, learned to appreciate the people who genuinely show up for me, and begun understanding that my identity isn't tied to the roles I play in other people's lives.
I'm learning that becoming who I want to be requires being honest about who I am right now.
And that honesty is what The Mirror is about.
Not Advice. Just Reflection.
Let me be clear about something.
I'm not writing The Mirror because I've figured life out.
Hell, some days I'm still trying to figure out what the question is.
I'm writing because I believe there's value in examining our experiences instead of simply moving through them.
I'll write about friendships, relationships, business, identity, self-worth, personal growth, and the lessons that come from getting things wrong.
Some reflections will be funny. Some will be uncomfortable. Others may be deeply personal.
And sometimes I may write something today that I see differently a year from now.
That's okay.
Growth means giving yourself permission to change your mind when you learn something new.
I've also adopted a philosophy that is changing how I approach life:
Either it's a win or it's a lesson. And if it's a lesson, what do I need to learn so I can win later?
That doesn't mean every experience has to have a happy ending. Some things hurt. Some losses are permanent. Some decisions have consequences we can't undo.
But I believe we can still choose what we carry forward.
Beyond the Titles
At The Curated Misfits, I believe that Identity is Architecture. Who you are should be the foundation of what you build.
I'm discovering that the same principle applies to my personal life.
For years, I've been many things to many people. And while those relationships and responsibilities have shaped me, they don't define the entirety of who I am.
I am more than a wife, a grandmother, a friend, a daughter, a sister, an aunt, a niece, a brand strategist, and a confidante. I am more than my relationships to other people.
I'm learning to separate my worth from what I accomplish, what I provide, and how other people perceive me.
I'm learning to celebrate small victories, establish boundaries, embrace change, and give myself the same compassion I've extended to others.
Most importantly, I'm learning that I don't have to have everything figured out to appreciate the person I'm becoming.
And returning to writing is part of that process.
It's something that belongs to me. Something I enjoy. Something that doesn't need to be monetized, packaged, or turned into a service.
Not everything I create has to be for somebody else. Some things can simply be for me.
If other people find something meaningful in my words, that's a beautiful bonus.
But the first person I want to be honest with is myself.
An Invitation to Look Closer
The Mirror is my space to think out loud, challenge myself, and document the lessons life continues to teach me.
I'm not asking you to agree with everything I write.
In fact, I hope some of it challenges the way you think.
Maybe you'll recognize yourself in one of my experiences. Maybe something I share will help you ask a question you've been avoiding. Or maybe you'll read something and think, "I completely disagree."
That's fine, too.
The goal isn't agreement. It's reflection.
Because sometimes hearing someone else's story gives us the courage to examine our own.
The Mirror isn't about creating a perfect reflection. It's about having the courage to look, even when what we see makes us uncomfortable.
So welcome to The Mirror.
The stories will be personal. The lessons will be real. And the perspective will continue to evolve.
I don't know how often I'll write. I don't want to make promises about publishing schedules or force myself to create something just to stay consistent.
I want to write when I have something to say. Just like I used to.
But this time, I want to be more intentional about making space for something I genuinely love.
I'm not the person I was five years ago. I'm not even the person I was a year ago. So much has happened.
And I hope I'm not the same person a year from now.
Because I'm still learning. Still growing. Still becoming.
And somewhere along the way, I'm rediscovering the joy of putting my thoughts into words.
Welcome to The Mirror. Take a look. You might see a little of yourself in here.
The Mirror is an ongoing personal essay series by Anisa Parks, founder of The Curated Misfits. Through honest reflections on identity, relationships, mistakes, growth, and reinvention, Anisa explores the experiences that shape who we are and who we're becoming.
