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There is still more to my dash.
A Note from Schanel
Turning 40 has invited me to look at my dash—the space between where my story began and where I am today—with honesty, gratitude, and grace.
My life has not unfolded exactly as I imagined it would. I have experienced love and loss, joy and grief, victories and disappointments, beginnings I welcomed and endings I never would have chosen. I became a widow at 35 and learned how to keep living while carrying both grief and gratitude. I became the mother of an incredible little boy who reminds me daily that love is not merely something we say—it is something we do.
I have learned that strength does not always look like having everything together. Sometimes it looks like staying. Sometimes it is choosing to get up, love, laugh, create, lead, parent, believe, and show up again. Sometimes it is setting a boundary, releasing what no longer fits, or admitting that I cannot control the outcome—I can only control Schanel, her choices, and her response.
Through every season, God has remained faithful. Even when life has been tighter than tight, I have never gone without. Even when I could not see the plan, I was never abandoned. Looking back, I can trace His hand through every chapter—even the ones I still do not completely understand.
My dash is filled with people, ideas, faith, motherhood, leadership, creativity, community, purpose, laughter, approximately 37 open tabs, and more notebooks than any one person reasonably needs. 😂 What once looked like separate lanes—human resources, training, strategy, community work, project management, writing, ministry, and experience design—was always part of the same road.
I am proud of what has grown along that road: the people I have poured into, the work that has made a difference, the ideas I was brave enough to pursue, and the version of myself who kept becoming even when no one was applauding. I am learning to honor what I have given without continuing to pour until I am empty.
At 40, I am not starting over. I am honoring what was planted, celebrating what has bloomed, and making room for the seeds that are only now beginning to break through the surface.
These pages hold pieces of my story—the reflections, the soundtrack, the voices, the memories, the lessons, the laughter, and the love. They do not tell all of it because my story is still being written.
I can look backward with gratitude without living backward.
I am still becoming.
I am still creating.
I am still trusting.
I am still believing.
I am still here.
And there is still more to my dash. 🦋
— Schanel Leaté, 40
MORE TO MY DASH —
The Soundtrack
40 years. 27 songs.
The opening declaration. I want to live fully, freely and intentionally. Golden doesn't describe a destination I've reached; it describes the way I want to move through the life I've been given.
There is freedom in finally being comfortable with who I am. Not perfect. Not finished. Not trying to become somebody else. Just genuinely happy being me.
I don't have to fit somebody else's definition of beauty, femininity or enoughness. I can show up as myself—glasses, curves, quirks, personality and all—and let that be enough.
A reminder not to judge the entire work while the Artist is still creating it. Some parts of my life haven't always made sense up close, but that doesn't mean they aren't part of something beautiful.
A celebration of the beauty in the skin I'm in. There is something powerful about seeing, honoring and loving yourself exactly as God created you.
Growth requires movement. I've learned, adjusted, matured, stretched and kept going. Every version of me has taught the next one something.
Because sometimes confidence doesn't need a deep explanation. 😂 There is a version of me that simply knows she looks good, feels good and can walk into the room accordingly.
Dream bigger. Expect more. Stop putting artificial ceilings over what's possible. My life has already taken turns I couldn't have predicted, so I'm leaving room for God to surprise me again.
My life isn't only about me. The work, relationships, ideas and impact are connected to something larger—and sometimes I need the reminder that my little piece still matters in the bigger picture.
There are chapters I haven't lived yet. At 40, my story isn't wrapping up; there are still blank pages waiting for experiences I haven't even imagined.
I've made it through too much to start believing I can't move forward now. There may be detours, delays and an occasional unnecessary mole tunnel 🤣, but stopping isn't the plan.
Joy doesn't always require a major accomplishment. Sometimes I can simply decide that I'm going to enjoy my life, protect my peace and have a good day.
Sometimes you have to straighten your crown, remember who you are and keep moving. Confidence can be restoration too.
I have learned that protecting my peace sometimes means releasing what drains me. Everything does not deserve unlimited access to me simply because I once said yes.
There have been seasons when faith wasn't about having an answer—it was simply about holding on. When circumstances changed, God's hand didn't.
Waiting has never meant that nothing is happening. Some seasons have required me to trust God's timing when mine would have preferred a considerably faster project schedule. 😂
A reminder of God's care and provision. If He has already demonstrated His faithfulness in so many ways, I can trust Him with what I haven't seen yet.
Blessing isn't the absence of difficulty. I can look over my life—the beautiful parts and the painful ones—and still recognize evidence of God's goodness throughout it.
Joy and pain can exist in the same story. Smiling doesn't mean I've never hurt; sometimes it means hurt didn't get the final word.
Love isn't merely chemistry or words. I value consistency, intention, partnership and someone whose actions agree with what they say.
And love should also feel GOOD. 😂 This is the joyful, affectionate, butterflies-and-big-smile side of love—the kind worth celebrating instead of overanalyzing.
Real wealth isn't limited to what sits in an account. Love, peace, family, meaningful relationships, purpose, memories and the ability to enjoy the life I'm building all count as abundance.
Some of life's best moments aren't elaborate at all. A good day, the people I love, laughter, ordinary routines and little moments can become the memories that matter most.
My dash has never been a solo journey. Friendship deserves its own place in my story—the people who have loved me, laughed with me, supported me, corrected me and simply stayed.
We have reflected enough—now we celebrate. 😂 This is joy, movement, community and the soundtrack turning into the party it was always allowed to be.
Forty isn't the conclusion. I can honor everything behind me without believing my best days have to live there. I still expect more.
The final declaration. I've experienced victories, losses, changes, grief, growth, disappointments, blessings and beginnings I never planned. Yet my faith remains. God has remained faithful. And after everything my dash has held so far, I'm still here. Undefeated.
The alternate interpretation.
I have always appreciated a good foundation—but I've also always been inclined to put a little of myself on it. 😂 This version represents that part of me: honoring what came before while still finding room to reinterpret it, personalize it and add my own flair.
These songs don't tell my entire story.
They tell pieces of it—the confidence, the questions, the faith, the waiting, the love, the grief, the joy, the people, the growth and the expectation.
Some of the most meaningful experiences I create begin at home—with Solomon. Christmas Letters to Solomon from Pinky the Elf brings together my love of storytelling, motherhood, and making ordinary moments feel special.
It’s a little piece of my dash, filled with Christmas wonder and the love behind the memories we make. 🩷