Unaltered Voices

Someone once said, "Their wounds don't determine your value." That statement stopped me in my tracks. It pierced right through me because, for so long, I believed the opposite. There was a time when I let others' treatment of me dictate how I saw myself. If someone dismissed, mistreated, or devalued me, I thought it must have been because I deserved it. I believed I wasn't good enough, I could have done better, maybe I was the problem. It's a damaging way to think, and it cost me my youth navigating life under that mindset. When I think about it, I can see exactly where it started. I internalized the way my parents treated me. My mother's abuse made me feel unworthy of love. My father's emotional absence made me question whether I was even worth showing up for. If the people who brought me into this world couldn't treat me as valuable, why would I expect anyone else to? That was the seed, the lie I carried into every relationship. And so, I unconsc...

About three weeks ago, I was scrolling on TikTok and paused on a video that only showed half of a woman’s face. I’m not sure why I stopped, but I’m glad I did. What she said cut deep and sat with me: “Sometimes people catch you in an off-season, and they genuinely believe that’s all you are.” The moment she said that, I started smiling. Because that’s me. I’ve lived through it more times than I can count, and the minute I outgrew their expectations, the same people who once smiled in my face couldn’t stand me anymore. Here’s the thing: people are strange. They will study you when you’re low, when you’re broken, when you’re off your game. Then, they write a whole story in their heads about who you are, as if your struggle is permanent. They measure you by that moment, not realizing it’s just a season, not a life sentence. And when you bounce back? When you heal, elevate, and step back into your power? Suddenly, you’re “different.” Suddenly, you’re “the enemy.” I’ll never forget meeting ...

I came across a TikTok of a young lady boldly saying she refused to want to know certain information. Her words? “If I don’t know, it won’t hurt me.” That sounds comforting on the surface. But the truth? It couldn’t be further from reality. I’ve lived that lie before. I remember dating someone for years, convinced we were building forever together. When I discovered he was living a double life, it was crippling. Had I known sooner, I would have walked away long before the truth broke me. Awareness would have given me the choice to protect myself. It could have saved me from danger, because let’s be honest, some women will harm you over a man. If I had known, I would have been ready, alert, on guard. But I didn’t know. And not knowing didn’t keep me safe; it kept me trapped. Awareness is more than just knowing facts about people; it’s also about knowing yourself . On a psychological level, being unaware of how our traumas shape us is one of the most dangerous blind spots we can carry. B...

Several weeks ago, I had a dream that felt too real to ignore. The emotions I carried inside that dream followed me into waking life. I was in shock, quiet, processing, tears falling, pen moving across paper, and new intentions being set. My spirit urged me to pull out the index cards I use for burning ceremonies. That’s how heavy this dream was. In it, I was spending time with people I thought were for me. It was the usual: laughter, games, staying over. But this time, I was met with an attitude that cut deep. I was questioned about why I stayed, and I was told I could have easily gone home. The words weren’t even as sharp as the energy behind them. I was left hurt, confused, trying to make sense of something that could have been communicated with kindness. In the dream, I remember thinking: If I’m not welcome, I’ll never return. And when I opened my eyes, I shut them again just to sit with it. That’s when I heard it, clear and undeniable: “Stop overstaying your welcome in people’s l...

  For a long time, I thought I was healing. I had cut ties with my family. I had moved forward, built my own stability, and promised myself I would never look back. In my mind, that was healing: walking away, refusing to engage, and closing the door on those who caused me pain. But years later, a trigger hit me so hard it knocked the wind out of me. That’s when I realized: I wasn’t healing, I was avoiding. Avoidance feels like healing because it creates space. It gives you breathing room. But it doesn’t deal with the wound; it just covers it up. I was living with unprocessed pain that resurfaced the moment life pressed the right button. And when that trigger showed up, all the anger, grief, and hurt came rushing back. That’s when I knew: it was time to start over. This time, not with avoidance, but with healing. I leaned into resources I once overlooked: therapy, journaling, holistic practices, and the guidance of coaches. Slowly, I stopped running from my pain and started facing i...

We’ve all heard about the five love languages: words of affirmation, acts of service, quality time, gifts, and physical touch. And while those are important, I believe there’s another one that rarely gets the spotlight: consideration . Consideration is a love language that doesn’t sparkle with grand gestures. It doesn’t always show up in roses, trips, or expensive gifts. It lives in the small, intentional acts that say, “I thought about you. I factored in your feelings. I cared enough to consider you.” And yet, considerate people are rare. When you find them, you know. They make space for you without you having to beg. They remember the details you barely mentioned in passing. They take your feelings into account, even when it’s inconvenient for them. Sadly, I’ve realized how rare this really is. I haven’t encountered true consideration in a long time. And I wish I had known then what I know now that when someone shows you consideration, you should treasure them, because it is indeed a...

  The water was calm, and so was I. There’s something about being submerged just me, the steady sound of my breath, and the gentle sway of the water that allows my mind to slow down. Swimming has always been my sanctuary, a place where clarity seems to find me. That day, clarity came in the form of a download I didn’t expect. It wasn’t something I thought applied to me, but I couldn’t shake it. The thought was simple, yet heavy: Some women want to have a man’s child because of how he loves his children. Not out of love for him, but because seeing him nurture his kids awakens something deep within them, the ache of a little girl who never felt cherished by her father. When I sat with that thought, it unraveled something profound. For some women, bearing his child isn’t just about starting a family. It’s about birthing the inner child she’s been carrying, hoping that in raising his baby, she’ll finally receive the love she’s always craved. It’s not strange when you really think abou...