Self Help

At A Rare Loss For Words

It’s not often I’m at a loss for words. Ask anyone who knows me well, and they’ll tell you—I’ve always got something to say. But lately? Lately, I’ve felt more shaken. Disheartened. I’ve struggled to find the right words in the face of what feels like an unraveling of the world around me.

If you’ve been reading the blog or following State of Slay™ for a while, you know I try to focus on growth, light, and resilience. I look for the lesson. The shift. The silver lining. And I’ve been trying to do that even as it feels like the people and places around me are falling apart.

Yesterday, it hit hard. I sat in my car, parked outside a store, completely unable to get out. I was paralyzed by the weight of it all—the lies, the selfishness, the lack of empathy. I’ve been feeling it for a while now: the anxiety of living in a place that doesn’t feel safe, the exhaustion of building something meaningful in uncertain times, the strain of trying to uplift others when I’m struggling to hold myself up.

A friend recently said they missed my positive energy. I mentioned I’d been a little low, and they replied that they’d noticed—but didn’t ask why. Didn’t check in. I get it. We all have a lot going on. But if we lose that connection—if we stop checking in on each other—what do we have left?

I know how I’ve made it this far: community. Support. A deep belief that light exists, even when it’s dim. My flame may be flickering, but it’s not out. And I know where to look to ignite it again.

When Darkness Feeds Itself

Before recovery, I thrived in the dark. I fed off negativity. I surrounded myself with people who mirrored my pain—people who used me, hurt me, and validated my belief that I wasn’t worthy of love or light. I clung to the victim narrative because it was easier than owning my part.

That mindset? It’s poison. It makes you believe that happiness is something someone else gives you. But real happiness—the kind that lasts—comes from living with integrity. From taking responsibility for our actions, our energy, and our healing.

Recovery taught me that the road to peace is paved with truth. That my actions, not my intentions, define who I am. That I get to choose how I show up in the world. And that means something, especially in times like these.

Be the Person You’re Proud Of

We’re all going through something. Some days are heavier than others. But now more than ever, we need to lift each other up—not tear each other down. We need to ask the extra question, send the check-in text, give the benefit of the doubt.

We need to be someone we can be proud of.

A few months ago, I asked: When all of this is over, will you be proud of who you were?

If you hesitate to answer, it’s time to get honest.

Choose compassion. Choose kindness. Choose truth. Choose to be the light—even if your flame is just a spark right now.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: Are You Someone You’d Be Proud Of?

  • Have you been living in integrity—with yourself and others?
  • Where have you fallen short? What can you do to make it right?
  • Are you showing up for others—or just for yourself?
  • What has your energy been like lately? How are you affecting the spaces you enter?
  • What’s one action you can take today to reconnect—with others and with yourself?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one thing you’ve done recently that made you proud—or one thing you want to do to course-correct?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling disconnected or dim, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a little light to find our way back.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYER! Nothing changes if nothing changes.

New blog goes up Tuesday, until then… SLAY on!
Use It To Grow

H.O.W.

Before I started this path, I wished for change daily. I hoped something—or someone—would swoop in and fix everything. But I wasn’t honest about what was really going on. I blamed others. I minimized my pain. I lived in denial.

What I didn’t realize was that my life wouldn’t get better just because I wanted it to. Wishing doesn’t work without action. And action requires honesty, openness, and willingness.

H.O.W. may sound simple, but when you’re living in darkness, it can feel impossible. Denial lies to you. It convinces you to bury the truth, avoid the mirror, and keep digging deeper into the hole.

But once I got desperate enough, I stopped digging. I looked up. I told the truth. And for the first time in a long time, I was willing to climb.

Change Starts with You

The day I got honest about the mess I’d made was the day everything started to shift.

I saw the wreckage I had caused—not just in my life, but in the lives of people who had tried to love me. I stopped blaming. I started owning. I opened myself to new ideas, new tools, new people who could guide me.

And I became willing—not just to admit my mistakes, but to fix them. That’s where real healing lives. That’s where the change I had longed for finally began to show up.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t fast. But it was real.

Ask Yourself H.O.W.

When you’re ready to change but don’t know how, ask yourself:

  • Am I being honest about what’s really going on?
  • Am I open to doing things differently?
  • Am I willing to take uncomfortable—but necessary—action?

If the answer to any of those is no, you’re not stuck—you’re just not ready yet.

But if the answer is yes?

Get ready. Life is about to shift.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: How Are You Showing Up for Change?

  • Do you wish for change in your life? What would it look like?
  • Are you being honest with yourself about where you are and what needs to shift?
  • How open are you to doing things in a new way?
  • What’s one thing you’re willing to try today—even if it’s uncomfortable?
  • Have you seen the power of H.O.W. in action before? What changed?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you can practice honesty, open-mindedness, or willingness this week?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s ready for change but doesn’t know where to start, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a roadmap—and a nudge.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYER! Close your eyes, clear your heart, let it go.

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

Your Mind Replays What Your Heart Cannot Delete

We’ve all been there—tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep, replaying a conversation or event from the past. Wishing we had responded differently. Wondering why it still hurts. Telling ourselves to let it go—but we can’t.

Our mind replays what our heart hasn’t yet released.

It’s like our brain is trying to rewrite the story to heal us, but instead, the loop only deepens the ache. Until we learn to extract the lesson, offer ourselves grace, and let go of what we can’t change, we keep ourselves stuck in the pain of yesterday.

Before the Release: The Cycle of Replay

Before walking this path, I never let anything go.

I was a walking vessel of resentment. Conversations looped in my head for days, weeks—sometimes years. I’d even replay them out loud, alone in my room, beating myself up for not saying the “right” thing or for freezing in the moment.

The weight of those replays followed me into new relationships and opportunities like a ball and chain. Every fresh connection felt like a repeat of the old one. I filtered every interaction through the pain and fear I hadn’t dealt with. Eventually, I started to isolate—bitterly and often.

And yes, my heart hurt. A lot. But what I didn’t realize was that I was choosing to stay in that hurt every time I pressed play again.

Rewriting the Loop

It wasn’t until I began prioritizing my peace—my healing—that I realized how much control I had.

Letting go didn’t mean letting someone else off the hook. It meant letting me off the hook. No longer dragging around conversations that had already ended or wounds that no longer served me.

I began to ask: What can I take from this? What’s mine to own? And what do I need to release?

Sometimes, yes, the harm done wasn’t my fault. But the replay? That was on me.

By valuing my peace over my pain, I slowly turned the volume down on the noise—and finally found some quiet.

You Can Mute the Past

We may not be able to delete every painful moment from our hearts—but we can learn to mute the noise. To press stop on the loop. To extract the wisdom and throw out the rest.

Because the longer we replay what hurt us, the longer we stay hurt.

Let it teach you. Then let it go.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: Are You Replaying or Releasing?

  • Do you find yourself mentally revisiting the same events or conversations? Why?
  • How does that impact your mood, energy, and relationships?
  • What would change if you gave yourself permission to let it go?
  • What can you learn from that moment instead of reliving it?
  • How might your life shift if you muted the loop—and chose peace instead?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one loop you’re ready to stop replaying—and what’s one way you’ll start letting it go?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in replay mode, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a new way to rewrite the story.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYERS! Stop waiting for Friday, for summer, for someone to fall in love with you, for life. Happiness is achieved when you stop waiting for it and make the most of the place you are right now.

New blog goes up Friday, until then… SLAY on!
Opportinity Dances

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYERS! Don’t lose your fire.

SLAY on!
Ready

Living In Limbo

Before I began walking this path, I knew limbo well.

When I was living in my illness, I felt stuck. Paralyzed. Like life was moving forward around me while I stayed frozen in place. I wanted to believe I had no control, but the truth was—I was holding the key to my own cell.

I wasn’t taking action. I wasn’t doing the work. And when nothing changes, nothing changes.

Eventually, I reached a breaking point—and instead of breaking down, I reached out. I asked for help. I found support. I took one step, then another. Slowly, my life started to inch forward. Hope returned. Light returned. And I started to feel alive again.

Navigating the Now

I think of that time a lot lately.

Because while the world may feel paused again, I know I don’t have to be. I focus on what I can do each day to move things forward—mentally, emotionally, creatively, and spiritually. I pour energy into meaningful connections, creative projects, and quiet rituals that keep me grounded. I say yes to what feels good and nourishing, even if it’s just a cozy moment in pajamas with a good book.

Limbo doesn’t have to mean lifeless. We get to choose how we respond—and where we put our energy.

Yes, some days feel heavier than others. And yes, I still feel the ache of what’s been lost or put on hold. But I’ve learned that in this stillness, we also have an opportunity. To pause. To reflect. To renew. And to rise.

Limbo Isn’t the End

This chapter may feel uncertain, but it isn’t forever.

We can move forward—internally, emotionally, spiritually—even when the outside world feels stalled. Our gifts, our growth, our goals—they’re still here. They’re still possible.

And when the world begins to move again, we’ll be ready. Because we didn’t just wait—we used the pause to prepare.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: What’s Your Relationship with Limbo?

  • Do you feel like your life is in limbo right now? How does that affect your daily mindset?
  • What small actions can help shift you out of a holding pattern?
  • Have you found new ways to connect, create, or rest during this time?
  • What unexpected lessons or strengths have emerged in this space between?
  • How can you show up for yourself today—even from a place of pause?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How are you moving forward—even in the waiting?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling stuck in the pause, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that we’re not standing still alone.

Slay Say

Good morning SLAYER! People will doubt what you say, but they will believe what you do.

New blog goes up Tuesday, until then… SLAY on!
Just Do Your Thing

Be A Light, Not A Fixer

It’s in our nature to want to help—especially when someone we care about is struggling. We offer advice. We brainstorm solutions. We try to fix what’s broken. But more often than not, people don’t want to be fixed. They want to be seen. Heard. Accepted. And the greatest gift we can offer them isn’t a fix—it’s our light.

When Advice Isn’t What’s Needed

Before walking this path, I never wanted advice.

When someone tried to tell me how to live or what to do, I’d shut down. My ears would ring with resistance. I wasn’t ready to hear it—even when it came from love.

What did make a difference? Watching someone who had been where I was… live differently. Heal differently. Shine differently. Their life, not their advice, became the spark that lit something in me. It was their example—not their instruction—that showed me another way was possible.

We’re Not Here to Fix

Seeing someone in pain can awaken our need to act. We want to step in. To fix. To redirect. But when that urge becomes overwhelming or obsessive, it’s worth asking: What’s really going on inside me?

Being a fixer can sometimes be about control—about our discomfort with someone else’s struggle. But healing doesn’t work that way. It can’t be forced. It can only be chosen.

We’re most powerful when we walk the walk. When we focus on our own healing, our own growth, our own joy—and let that speak for itself.

Let Your Light Speak

Years ago, someone from my past reached out unexpectedly. We hadn’t always gotten along, and they’d never asked me for advice before. But something had shifted. They saw how I’d changed. How I was living. And they wanted to know how.

That conversation never would’ve happened if I’d tried to force a message down their throat. But because I simply lived my truth—and shared my light—they were able to find their own courage to ask for more.

Being a light isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being real. Radiating kindness. Living with integrity. And creating space where others can feel safe enough to begin their own healing.

So the next time you feel the pull to fix someone, pause. Instead, ask yourself how you can shine a little brighter today—and trust that your light is doing more than you think.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: Are You a Fixer or a Light?

  • Do you often feel the urge to fix others? Where does that come from?
  • What usually happens when you try to solve someone else’s problems?
  • Have you been inspired by someone simply by the way they live? What stood out?
  • Are you open to letting others find their path in their own time?
  • How can you focus more on being an example rather than a solution?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How have you learned to shine instead of fix?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling the weight of wanting to fix it all, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a shift—from fixing to shining.