The Conversations That Defined Pretti Talk in 2025

As we close out 2025, I find myself sitting with gratitude—not just for what this year brought, but for what it taught us. This year, Pretti Talk became more than a platform. It became a testimony. A witness. A reminder that our stories, when told with truth and intention, can shift the culture.

Every conversation we had, every word we published, every woman we spotlighted—it all carried weight. And you showed up for it. You shared it. You sat with it. You let it change you.

These were the conversations that you vibed with the most this year. Conversations about character, transformation, truth-telling, grief, motherhood, and navigating a world that’s changing faster than we can sometimes keep up with. Here’s what moved us in 2025.

Character > Clout: A Conversation With Renée L. Brown

We opened the year asking a question that felt urgent: Where have all the virtues gone?

In a world completely obsessed with visibility, Renée L. Brown reminded us that character is the real currency. That integrity, patience, and authenticity aren’t outdated—they’re essential. Through her B.E.A.S.T. mindset (Bravery, Enthusiasm, Authenticity, Self-Control, and Thankfulness), she’s helping people build success that’s anchored in something deeper than applause.

Meeting Renée in person only confirmed what I felt through our interview: her presence is a hug. Warm, safe, and deeply affirming. She’s proof that you can lead powerfully without performing. That you can be grounded and still grow. That doing the right thing—even when no one’s watching—is the only way to build something that lasts.

This conversation set the tone for everything that followed: substance over spectacle. Truth over trends.

From Breakdown to Breakthrough: How Monique Cabrera Built the Haus of Self

Sometimes the breakdown is the beginning.

Monique Cabrera’s story wasn’t easy to tell—but it was necessary. On paper, her life looked perfect. But inside, she was drowning. And instead of waiting for someone to save her, she booked a flight to Sedona on Christmas morning and saved herself.

That solo retreat became the foundation for Haus of Self, a transformational space where women go to remember who they are. Not who they were before the heartbreak or the disappointment or the exhaustion. But who they’re becoming.

Monique doesn’t promise overnight change. She offers sustainable growth rooted in self-trust. And through her work, she’s reminding women everywhere that evolution isn’t about going back—it’s about becoming.

This story reminded us that healing isn’t linear. That it’s okay to fall apart. And that the messy middle—where you’re no longer who you were but not yet who you’re becoming—is sacred ground.

Undressing the Market: How Viral Wholesalers are Shaking Luxury—and What It Means for Black-Owned Brands

The luxury industry got exposed this year—and we were here for it.

TikTok wholesalers pulled back the curtain on the fashion world, revealing the factories behind the labels, the markups behind the mystique, and the truth behind the “exclusivity.” Suddenly, consumers were asking: Are we paying for craftsmanship or clout?

For Black-owned luxury brands still fighting for credibility and resources, this shift felt both threatening and liberating. But Rhonda Michelle of Michelle Divine showed us how to navigate it: with transparency and truth.

She doesn’t hide her process. She honors it. She curates with intention, blends original designs with trusted manufacturers, and builds community through authenticity—not scarcity.

This article reminded us that the new luxury isn’t about gatekeeping. It’s about storytelling. It’s about owning your narrative before the market tries to define it for you.

Letter to My Old Self: The Woman Daddy Raised Me to Be 

This one broke me open…and I let it.

Eighteen years after losing my father, I finally wrote the letter I needed to write. To the 20-year-old girl who was told to “be strong.” To the woman who spent years running from grief instead of through it. To the daughter still trying to live up to the legacy he left.

My father taught me to dream big. To think critically. To love boldly. He filled me with Black pride, curiosity, and confidence. He believed I was his legacy.

And for eighteen years, I carried that belief—but I also carried the weight of trying to honor it while grieving in silence.

This letter was my reckoning. My permission slip. My testimony that survival isn’t the same as living. That grief doesn’t have a timeline. And that becoming the woman he raised me to be doesn’t mean being perfect—it means being whole.

The response to this piece reminded me that I’m not alone. That so many of us are still carrying loss, still learning to grieve, still trying to honor the people who shaped us while becoming who we’re meant to be without them.

“A man is not truly dead until he is forgotten.” And as long as I’m here; telling his stories, teaching his lessons, and weaving those principles into the things that I build—he never will be.

The Weight We Carry: Loving Black Girlhood Without Stealing It

This was the truth I resisted writing.

Because it’s uncomfortable. Because it implicates us. Because it asks us to reckon with the ways we’ve policed Black girls in the name of protection despite hating having it done to us.

Black women are often the first thieves of Black girlhood. We silence their voices, police their bodies, and steal their joy…all because we know what the world does to Black girls. But in trying to protect them, we end up mimicking the very systems we’re trying to shield them from.

I wrote this after a moment with my daughter—a moment where I had to choose between repeating cycles or breaking them. Where I had to decide: Do I shrink her to keep her safe? Or do I teach her to take up space unapologetically?

I chose the latter. And this piece was my invitation for other Black mothers, aunties, mentors, and community members to do the same.

We don’t have to be the first thieves. We can be the first witnesses. The first believers. The first freedom-givers.

Human Hands and Digital Tools: Crafting Authentic Stories in The Era of AI

Technology is moving fast. Faster than most of us can process. And for Black creatives, the rise of AI feels both promising and terrifying.

Promising because it gives us tools to scale, to create, to reach more people. Terrifying because we’ve seen what happens when our culture is commodified, stolen, and stripped of its soul.

So I asked the question: How do we use AI without losing ourselves?

This piece became a manifesto. A reminder that AI can support our process, but it can never replace our pulse. That technology can help us archive our stories, but only we can truly tell them. That authenticity is our competitive advantage in a world flooded with AI-generated content.

Black creatives are cultural preservationists. We’re not just making products—we’re encoding lived experience into art. And no algorithm can replicate that.

This conversation reminded us that we don’t have to fear technology. We just have to own our narratives before AI tries to distribute them.

Looking back on 2025, I see an unintentional theme: every story we told was about power. Not the kind that performs or dominates. But the quiet kind that’s rooted in truth, character, and self-knowledge.

We talked about building character in a clout-driven world.  We explored what it means to heal and transform. We examined how Black-owned brands can navigate industry disruption with integrity.  We processed grief, motherhood, and legacy. We grappled with how to use technology without losing our humanity.

And through it all, you showed up. You read. You shared. You commented. You told me these stories mattered to you.

That’s everything.

And the numbers only confirmed is what my spirit already knew.

In 2025, Pretti Talk reached over 40,000 readers, our largest readership in a single year. But the most telling part wasn’t the growth, it was where it came from.

The stories that traveled the furthest were the ones where I stopped armoring myself. The letters. The grief. The motherhood. The moments where I chose honesty over distance.

Letter to My Old Self became the most-read piece of the year. Stories about character, healing, Black girlhood, and quiet power followed closely behind. Not because they were optimized or I did the best job marketing them, but because they were true.

This year taught me that vulnerability doesn’t dilute impact. It deepens it. That when a writer tells the truth with care, readers don’t just consume the work they recognize it within themselves.

Thank you for meeting me in the places where I chose honesty over perfection—and for proving that truth still matters.

As we step into 2026, I’m carrying the lessons of this year with me. I’m committed to continuing to create space for stories that center truth over trends, substance over spectacle, and legacy over likes.

Because that’s what we do here at Pretti Talk. We create. We connect. We evolve.

And we do it together.

Here’s to more truth-telling. More courage. More conversations that matter.

Here’s to us.

What was your favorite Pretti Talk story from 2025? Drop a comment and let me know.