Mental Health

Today I Will Not Stress Over Things I Cannot Control

Easier said than done, right?
Especially now.
It feels like everything—from the world at large to our daily lives—is spiraling beyond our control.

And it’s true: most of life really is outside of our hands.
No matter how hard we try to will something into existence or change an outcome, some things just are.
But here’s the truth I’ve come to live by:
I may not be able to control what happens around me—but I can control how I respond to it.
And that’s where the power is.

The Illusion of Control

When I was living in the dark, I was consumed by control.
Trying to manage everything and everyone.
Manipulating, bargaining, obsessing—believing that if I could just control the situation, I could finally feel safe.

But no matter how hard I tried, life had other plans.
It didn’t care how hard I worked to bend it to my will.
And I exhausted myself trying.

The more I tried to control, the more unmanageable everything became.
It didn’t just wear me out—it wore me down.
My mental health suffered.
My self-worth took a hit.
And I lost myself in the process.

Letting Go Was the Turning Point

When I finally made the decision to change my life, I was told something that made me flinch:
“You have to accept that you can’t control everything.”

That one sentence lit up every fear I had.
I didn’t want to hear it.
But I needed to.

Because as terrifying as letting go felt, holding on was doing more damage.

So I started small.
I worked on myself.
I practiced gratitude.
I focused on the good.
And I gave back where I could.

Slowly, the need to control started to loosen its grip.
And I began to feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time: peace.

The Freedom in Acceptance

Letting go doesn’t mean giving up.
It means accepting reality as it is—and choosing to move forward anyway.
It means doing what you can, where you are, with what you have.

It means focusing on your choices, your behavior, your energy—not the chaos around you.

And when you feel that old need for control creeping in?
Put the focus back on yourself.
Or do something kind for someone else.
It’s a powerful reset.

Because the truth is, trying to control what’s out of your hands only ends up controlling you.

What I Can Do Today

There are still plenty of things I can’t control—and many of them deeply disturb me.
But I’ve learned that obsessing over what I can’t change doesn’t help.

What does help?
Doing what I can.

I show up for myself.
I show up for others.
I make better choices.
And I leave the rest.

Because acceptance isn’t giving up—it’s breaking free.

SLAY Reflection: Where Are You Holding On Too Tight?

  1. Do you stress over things that are out of your control?
    What are they—and how do they affect your peace?

  2. How has your need for control shaped your relationships, habits, or mental health?
    What patterns do you see?

  3. What’s one area of your life where you could let go a little more today?
    How would that feel?

  4. What are you really afraid of when you try to control everything?
    Is it fear of failure? Rejection? Uncertainty?

  5. What would shift if you focused on your response, rather than the outcome?
    Where can you put your energy to use in a healthier way?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one thing you’re ready to stop stressing over because you’ve realized it’s out of your control?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in the loop of control and frustration, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYER! Grow through what you go through.

New blog goes up Tuesday, until then… SLAY on!
Faith Bigger Than Fears

Faith Is Hope With A Track Record

Some days, it’s harder to write than others.
Especially on the days when my light feels dim, when I’m tired, and when the fire that usually fuels me flickers a bit lower.

Today is one of those days.
And yet—these are often the days I most need to write.
To remind myself of what I know deep down:
This moment will pass.
This weight I’m feeling isn’t forever.
And no matter how disconnected or overwhelmed I feel, I’ve made it through harder days than this.
Faith reminds me of that.

Life may feel uncertain and unsteady at times, but faith is what brings me back to center.
Because faith isn’t just a feeling—it’s a belief rooted in evidence.
It’s hope that’s been tested. And proven.

From Hopelessness to Hope

Before I began this journey, I didn’t have much faith.
In fact, I didn’t even have much hope.
My mind always defaulted to the worst-case scenario.
And on the rare occasion I dared to hope, I quickly snuffed it out with a familiar voice in my head that told me I didn’t deserve good things.

But then someone shared their story with me.
Where they had been.
What they had come through.
And where they were now.

That single story sparked something.
A flicker of hope.
It was small, but it was enough to help me pick up the phone and ask for help.
And that call changed everything.

How Faith Is Built

Hope came first.
Faith came later.

Because faith doesn’t magically show up—it builds over time.
It’s earned through experience, through consistent effort, and through the proof that change is possible when we do the work.

As I began taking positive steps in my recovery, I started to notice shifts in my life.
Support showed up.
Healing began.
My mental health improved.
And slowly, I started to believe that I could feel better.
That I could build a different kind of life.

That belief—backed by action—became my faith.

Faith Isn’t Passive. It’s a Practice.

Faith isn’t just sitting back and hoping things will change.
It’s rolling up your sleeves and doing the work because you believe change is possible.

Faith can be rooted in something greater than ourselves.
In a higher power.
In the belief that we’re being guided or protected.

But it’s also in the way we show up every day—especially on the hard days.
When we take small, positive actions even when we don’t feel like it.
When we keep moving forward, even if we’re unsure of the destination.
That’s faith in motion.

Share the Flame

Today, if you’re in a low place, remind yourself of what you’ve already overcome.
Look back at the track record of your survival, your growth, your strength.

Faith is built on the moments you didn’t think you’d get through—but did.

And if you’re struggling to find your faith today, start with hope.
Hold onto that spark and trust that it will grow.

If your flame feels dim, share it anyway.
Because when we pass our light to someone else, it only gets brighter.

SLAY Reflection: Are You Holding Onto Faith or Reaching for Hope?

  1. Do you feel connected to your faith today?
    If yes, how does it support you? If not, what’s made you feel disconnected?

  2. Did you always have faith—or did you find it later in life?
    What helped you begin to believe again?

  3. When you think about hope, what comes up for you?
    Are you nurturing it—or avoiding it?

  4. What action helped you move from hope into faith?
    What did you do that built trust in your own journey?

  5. Who in your life might need a reminder that faith is possible?
    How can you be the light that helps spark theirs?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one moment in your life where hope turned into faith—and how did that change your path?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s searching for that spark, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYER! The best time for a new beginning is now.

New blog goes up Sunday, until then… SLAY on!

Pivot

When Nothing Goes Right, Go Left

We’ve all been there.
Those seasons when it feels like nothing is working.
Every door feels closed, every step feels heavy, and no matter how hard we try, it all seems to fall apart.

We hit wall after wall.
We get frustrated.
We start to wonder if it’s even worth the fight.

But maybe—just maybe—those walls are redirections.
Maybe those detours are trying to protect us, shift us, or move us toward something better.
Sometimes, when nothing is going right, it’s not about giving up… it’s about going left.

When I Refused to Pivot

Before I began walking the path I’m on now, I was stubborn.
I didn’t believe I deserved good things, so when something didn’t go as planned, it only reinforced the belief that I was a failure.
A part of me almost wanted things to go wrong—because that matched the internal narrative I had created.

I worked hard, but the second I met resistance, I would retreat.
I’d give up.
And then I’d use that failure as proof that life was against me.

I didn’t see roadblocks as opportunities to pivot.
I saw them as confirmation that I was doomed to fail.
I was stuck in a cycle of all-or-nothing thinking, ruled by ego, fear, and a refusal to try things a new way.

Recovery Taught Me to Turn

Recovery didn’t just teach me how to live—it taught me how to redirect.

I’ve learned that just because a path is blocked doesn’t mean the dream is wrong.
Sometimes we’re meant to pursue it another way.
Sometimes we’re meant to walk away.
And sometimes, we’re simply being taught patience and trust.

What changed for me was the realization that I don’t know everything.
There is a whole world of wisdom, experience, and guidance that exists beyond what I’ve lived or read.
And when I stopped trying to force life to bend to my will—and instead became open to its direction—everything started to shift.

Those dead ends?
They were saving me.
Those “no’s”?
They were leading me to something even better.

Redirection Isn’t Rejection

When we cling to one way, one plan, or one outcome, we miss out on the magic of life’s detours.
The universe might have something better in store—something we never could have imagined.
But to receive it, we have to be willing to loosen our grip.
To trust.
To be humbled.
And to follow the signs when they point in a new direction.

Today, when I hit a wall, I don’t panic.
I pause.
I regroup.
And I look for a new opening.

The goal might still be the same—but the route can change.

Don’t Stop—Just Shift

If you’re feeling discouraged, if you’re facing what feels like a dead end, don’t give up.
Go left.

Try a new approach.
Ask for help.
Take a risk.
Open your mind to the possibility that there’s another way—maybe even a better way.

You’re not being punished.
You’re being redirected.
And that redirection just might lead you to everything you’ve been working for… and more.

SLAY Reflection: How Do You Respond to Redirection?

  1. Do you tend to feel defeated when things don’t go your way?
    What’s your default reaction when you hit a wall?

  2. Can you think of a time when a dead end led you to something even better?
    What did that teach you?

  3. Are there goals you’ve abandoned that might just need a new approach?
    What could you try differently?

  4. How often does your ego get in the way of your progress?
    Where could you surrender a little more?

  5. What would it look like to trust life’s redirections instead of resisting them?
    Where is life possibly nudging you now?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one detour in your life that ended up being a blessing in disguise?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling stuck or defeated, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYER! If you won by doing something wrong, was it really a win?

New blog goes up Friday, until then… SLAY on!
Lose and Win

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYER! Image is what people see and hear, integrity is who we really are.

SLAY on!
What Is Right

What You Do When No One Is Watching

We all have moments where we wear different masks. There’s the version of us the world sees—and then there’s the version that shows up when no one else is around. Ideally, these two should be one and the same. We should move through life with consistency, acting with honor and integrity whether eyes are on us or not. But let’s be honest: that’s not always what happens.

For many years, I was someone who acted differently when I thought I could get away with it. I wore my victimhood like armor, and when life didn’t go my way, I convinced myself it owed me something in return.

I remember being at the grocery store once when the cashier forgot to ring up an item in my cart. I noticed—but I said nothing. Instead, I walked out with it and told myself it was a win. A moment of justice. But deep down, I knew better. I was raised to know right from wrong. And I knew I’d crossed a line.

That item may have been free, but the guilt wasn’t. I carried it around, letting it reinforce the story that I was a bad person. And the more I let myself slide in little ways when no one was watching, the harder it became to hold onto any sense of self-worth.

We think we’re slick. We think we’re getting away with something. But we’re not. Because even if no one else sees it, we do.

A Shift in Integrity

When I committed to recovery and started learning to love myself, I had to reckon with the person I was when no one was watching. I had to confront the choices I’d made in secret and the ways I’d let myself down. And I had to stop.

I made a promise to myself: I would always act as if someone was watching.

Because someone was. Me.

And that meant doing the right thing—even when it was hard, even when it was inconvenient, and even when no one would ever know. Especially then.

Today, doing the right thing fills me with peace. It lifts me up. It affirms the person I’m becoming. I no longer carry the weight of guilt for the sake of a cheap win. Instead, I carry the quiet confidence that comes from living in alignment with my values.

I was once told: if you do something kind and the person finds out, it doesn’t count. Because the good deed isn’t about credit. It’s about character.

The Power of Quiet Character

In a world that rewards appearances, doing the right thing quietly, consistently, and without applause is an act of rebellion. It’s also an act of self-love.

Every time you choose honesty over deception, compassion over ego, and integrity over the easy way out—you build a life rooted in trust.

The next time you find yourself in a moment of choice, ask: What would I do if someone I deeply respect were watching me right now?

Then act from that place.

Because the truth is, the person who matters most is watching. And they live inside of you.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: Who Are You When It’s Just You?

  • Do you behave the same way when no one is watching? If not, why?
  • What’s the cost of getting away with something? How does it sit with you later?
  • What values matter most to you? Are you living in alignment with them?
  • What’s one recent moment where you could’ve acted differently—and chose integrity instead?
  • How do you feel when you do the right thing, even if no one notices? What does that say about the person you’re becoming?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What does integrity look like in your everyday life—especially when no one else is watching?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s trying to realign with their values, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a quiet reminder of who we really are.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYERS! Most people don’t listen with the intent to understand, they listen with the intent to reply.

New blog goes up Tuesday, until then… SLAY on!
Just By Standing Up

You Can’t Help Someone Who Doesn’t Want To Help Themselves

We’ve all been there—someone we care about comes to us, overwhelmed by their circumstances. We listen. We offer suggestions. But what they really want is a quick fix, and often, one that lets them off the hook from actually doing the work. Sometimes people just need a break, and it’s kind to help where we can. But more often, the most loving thing we can do is encourage them to help themselves.

My Turning Point

Before I began my recovery journey, I constantly looked to others to rescue me from my own messes. I played the victim, and life felt so unmanageable that it was easier to expect someone else to clean it up.

The truth? My thinking was broken. My perception was skewed. I had no healthy tools or coping mechanisms. So when I finally reached out for real help, I was asked one question that changed everything:

“What are you willing to do?”

And for the first time, I said: Anything.

That was the moment things shifted. I had to fall far enough down into despair before I became willing to fight for my life. And fight I did.

Recovery taught me that this new way of living would only work if I worked it. No one could do it for me. I had to believe I was worth the effort—and that belief became the spark that lit my path forward.

With each milestone I earned, my self-esteem and self-worth grew. I began to think about the younger version of myself—the one I’d neglected, the one I’d hurt. I made a commitment to her that I would never abandon her again. That’s who I fight for now. That’s who I protect.

Why Doing the Work Matters

You can’t do the work for someone else. And if you try, you’re actually robbing them of something vital: the opportunity to grow.

Growth comes from struggle. Strength is built through effort. Confidence is earned through consistency. When we do someone else’s heavy lifting, we deny them the chance to build the muscle they’ll need to stand on their own.

Of course, we can offer support. We can stand beside someone and remind them they’re not alone. But we must let them take the lead. Not only is it healthier for them—it’s healthier for us, too.

Practicing this kind of boundary is a form of self-respect. It’s a reminder that we’re not responsible for fixing everyone’s life. That people-pleasing, over-functioning, and rescuing don’t lead to healing—they often lead to resentment.

You can love someone deeply and still let them do their own work. In fact, that might be the greatest form of love there is.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: Where Are You Over-Functioning?

  • Do you often take responsibility for someone else’s problems? Why?
  • How has doing your own inner work changed your sense of self-worth?
  • What lessons would you have missed if someone else had done the work for you?
  • Can you think of someone in your life who needs to do their own work? What boundary could you set to support them without enabling them?
  • How can standing beside someone—rather than carrying them—be an act of love?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve learned to step back and let someone else do their own work—and how did that shift your relationship with them or yourself?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s always trying to rescue others, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that loving someone doesn’t mean fixing them.