No One Can Drive You Crazy Unless You Give Them The Keys

We’ve all had those moments—when someone gets under our skin, disrupts our peace, and throws our entire day off course. Sometimes, it’s a conversation. Other times, it’s a repeated behavior. And before we know it, we’re consumed—playing it over and over in our minds, stewing in frustration, resentment, or defeat.

But here’s the truth:
They only have that power if we hand them the keys.

For a long time, I didn’t see that.
I thought I was just a victim of circumstance, or worse—other people.
But what I was really doing was giving away control.
Letting someone else take the wheel.
And then wondering why I kept crashing.


The Cost of Handing Over the Wheel

In my past, I gave away the keys to my peace all the time.

Sometimes it was people-pleasing—I didn’t want anyone to be upset with me, so I’d go along with something even when it didn’t feel right.
Other times, I hoped that if I just tolerated enough, something good would eventually come of it.
And then there were times I gave away control so I could keep telling the same story: that I was the victim.
That life happened to me.
That I had no power.

It kept me sick.
It kept me stuck.
And it kept me in relationships, situations, and patterns that were not good for me.


Recovery Handed Me Back the Keys

When I began my recovery journey, one of the first things I had to do was take radical responsibility for my own life.

That meant owning my choices.
Being honest with myself about my part.
And realizing that I could no longer blame other people for how I felt, what I did, or what direction my life was going in.

It was sobering at first.
But also liberating.
Because if I had the power to give the keys away…
I also had the power to take them back.


Who’s Driving?

Here’s what I’ve learned:
You can’t complain about where your life is going if you’ve let someone else steer.

Yes—people may have opinions.
Yes—they might try to sway you.
But at the end of the day, you are the one in the driver’s seat.

You decide what’s best for you.
You set the course.
And if someone keeps reaching for the wheel?
It might be time to rethink whether they belong in your vehicle at all.


Emotional Hijacking

Letting someone else “drive” doesn’t always look like direct control.
Sometimes, it’s letting a comment ruin your whole day.
Or replaying an argument in your mind on loop.
Or getting pulled into drama that has nothing to do with you.

These are all ways we give our power away.
All ways we hand over the keys—without even realizing it.

Today, I choose to drive.
Even when the road gets bumpy.
Even when I make a wrong turn.
Because it’s my journey, and I’d rather learn from my own mistakes than crash because someone else took the wheel.


SLAY Reflection: Who’s Driving Your Life?

  1. Do you let others emotionally hijack your peace?
    What triggers this—and how often does it happen?

  2. Have you given someone the power to influence your thoughts, decisions, or direction?
    How does that make you feel?

  3. Are you holding onto resentment or trying to control situations that no longer involve you?
    What would happen if you let that go?

  4. Is there someone in your life who repeatedly tries to take the wheel?
    Is that a healthy relationship—or something that needs to shift?

  5. What can you do today to take your power back and stay in the driver’s seat?
    What boundary needs to be drawn—or reinforced?


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever handed someone else the keys to your peace—and what did it take to take them back?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s giving away their power, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Fighting Your Own Battle

Most of us have heard the phrase: Be kind, for everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. It’s a gentle reminder to extend grace to others. But here’s the truth that hits a little deeper: Sometimes we do know what battle someone is facing—and we’re still trying to fight our own.

It’s hard enough to stay present in our own struggle. Add in someone else’s chaos, triggers, or unresolved pain, and suddenly your progress feels shaky, your peace interrupted, your healing…unraveled.


I Had to Learn to Fight for Myself First

For years, I didn’t know how to fight my own battle. I carried old wounds, outdated beliefs, and habits that didn’t serve me—but they were familiar. They felt like truth.

Over time, I found my stride. I learned to live with my battle in a way that felt healthy, loving, and sustainable. But the journey wasn’t smooth. I assumed that because I was working so hard to grow, change, and heal…everyone else was too.

Spoiler alert: They weren’t.

That assumption pulled me down more than once. I had to stop seeing people for their potential and start meeting them exactly where they were. It wasn’t my job to rescue anyone or walk their path for them.

I had to protect my own peace—not because I was better, but because I was responsible for keeping myself well. And that meant accepting that not everyone is ready to do their work. Not everyone wants to. Not everyone knows how. And that’s not my battle to fight.


Other People’s Battles Are Not Yours to Lose

There will be people in your life who trigger things you thought you’d healed. It might not even make sense in the moment. But their words, tone, or behavior can hit a nerve connected to a wound from long ago.

Or maybe they remind you of yourself—an older version of you, or a part of you you’re still trying to change. And instead of compassion, you find yourself feeling judgmental or impatient.

When that happens, pause. Ask yourself:

Is this really about them—or is it about something unhealed in me?

We can’t control how others show up. But we can decide how much power we give them. If you’re agitated, it’s your responsibility to ask why.

That doesn’t mean blaming yourself. It means getting curious about your own reactions.

If someone’s behavior is affecting your peace and you can’t fix the issue—walk away. Let it go. Preserve your space. Protect your peace.


Focus on Your Fight

Your path is yours. So is your pace.

You’re allowed to heal slowly. You’re allowed to outgrow what you’ve outlived. You’re allowed to say, “I love you, but I’m focusing on me right now.”

And you’re also allowed to ask:

Why does this bother me? What is this trying to teach me?

You can’t fight someone else’s battle. They can’t fight yours. And trying to do so only distracts you from your own healing.

You’ve worked too hard to let someone else’s war pull you back into old patterns.

So stay the course. Fight clean. Protect your energy. Stay on your path.

You’re not just fighting—you’re winning. One healthy boundary at a time.


SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • Are you letting someone else’s energy throw you off track?
  • Do you take on other people’s battles to avoid your own?
  • What triggers you—and what does that trigger reveal about your healing?
  • Can you separate what’s yours from what’s not yours to carry?
  • What boundary can you set today to protect your peace?

S – L – A – Y

S: See what’s truly yours to carry.
L: Listen to what your agitation is telling you.
A: Act by protecting your peace, even if it means walking away.
Y: Yield to your own path—it’s where your healing lives.


Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever found yourself fighting someone else’s battle instead of your own?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to stay in their own lane, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Not Everything That Weighs You Down Is Yours To Carry

This week has been heavy.
Not just in the day-to-day busyness, but emotionally, mentally, spiritually.

And as I took a step back, I asked myself a question I’ve learned to come back to again and again:
Is all of this mine to carry?

The answer?
No.
But that hasn’t stopped me from dragging it around—tight-chested, overwhelmed, and bone-tired.

Like many of us, I juggle a lot every day.
And most of the time, I believe I can handle it all.
Until I can’t.
Until I hit a wall.
And when I do, I don’t always meet myself with grace.
Sometimes, I meet myself with frustration and shame.

Even when I know better, I still find myself slipping into old habits—trying to carry it all.
No one is asking me to.
Help is there if I reach for it.
But there I go, dragging the weight of the world across some invisible finish line I made up in my head.

It’s time to pause.
To take a breath—or a few—and ask myself what I’ve picked up along the way that never belonged to me in the first place.


We Learn to Carry What We Don’t Need

Before recovery, I carried everything.
It never occurred to me that I could set anything down.

The emotional weight.
The resentment.
The guilt.
The responsibility for people and problems that were never mine to begin with.

I just kept going—until I couldn’t.

Eventually, I hit a wall.
Hard.
And that wall was the wake-up call I needed.
I couldn’t live that way anymore.
It was slowly destroying me.

So I asked for help.
Not just with what I was carrying—but with how I lived.


Learning to Let Go of What’s Not Yours

Through recovery, I discovered something profound:
A lot of what I was carrying wasn’t mine.

Some of it was inherited—passed down through family, expectations, trauma.
Some of it I volunteered to carry—because I wanted to feel helpful, needed, or in control.

And some of it… I carried on purpose to sabotage myself.
To stay small.
To stay exhausted.
To prove that I couldn’t do more, be more, live more.

That’s the hard truth.
Sometimes, we don’t just carry what’s not ours—we choose it.

But once I got honest with myself, I realized I had a choice.
To let go.
To say no.
To only carry what actually belonged to me.

And that changed everything.


What’s Yours—and What’s Not

There will always be people who would gladly let you carry their weight.
There will be moments when you try to carry someone else’s pain, fear, or responsibility—uninvited.

But that doesn’t mean you have to.

Being helpful doesn’t mean taking on someone else’s journey.
Being strong doesn’t mean carrying more than you should.
Being loving doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself.

We are responsible for ourselves.
For our peace.
For honoring what we need.

That starts with putting down what was never yours to carry in the first place.


SLAY Reflection: What Are You Carrying?

  1. Do you tend to carry more weight than you need to—physically, emotionally, or mentally?
    What does that weight feel like?

  2. What are you carrying that doesn’t actually belong to you?
    Who gave it to you—and why did you accept it?

  3. Are there responsibilities, emotions, or expectations you’ve taken on to feel valuable or in control?
    How are they serving you? How are they hurting you?

  4. What would it feel like to put that weight down—even just a little?
    What would change?

  5. What can you do today to lighten your load and honor your limits?
    Where can you say no, ask for help, or simply rest?


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one burden you’ve been carrying that isn’t actually yours—and how are you learning to let it go?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s overwhelmed by weight they were never meant to carry, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

When Others Inject Their Fear Into Your Life

It takes courage to chase your dreams. To put yourself out there. To share your truth with the world, especially when that truth has been born from your soul. It’s vulnerable work. So naturally, we hope the people who love us will show up to support us.

But sometimes, they don’t.

And instead of encouragement, we get fear. Not our own—theirs. Projected through criticism, sarcasm, or silence. It can come from the people we least expect, and it can sting the most when it does. Their fear may show up as jealousy, pessimism, or even ultimatums. And suddenly, your moment of growth becomes a moment of conflict. One you never asked for.


Their Fear Is Not Yours to Carry

It’s important to remember: you are not responsible for making others comfortable with your growth.

You are not responsible for shrinking so someone else can feel tall.

We all carry our own insecurities, and when someone projects theirs onto you, it often has more to do with their inner struggle than with anything you’re doing wrong. You are not doing anything wrong by growing, dreaming big, or stepping into your light. In fact, you’re doing something incredibly right.

People who truly love you will want to see you win. Even if they don’t fully understand your path, they’ll respect that it’s yours. And they’ll support you because they care about your joy. If they can’t do that, then it may be time to lovingly step back and re-evaluate who gets to be in your inner circle.


The Subtle Ways Fear Shows Up

Not all fear looks like yelling or outright criticism. Sometimes it comes quietly:

  • The sarcastic comment

  • The deflating look

  • The unreturned text on a day that mattered to you

These passive reactions are just as powerful. And just as hurtful. Because they take up emotional space that you could be using to build, to dream, to thrive. When you’re busy decoding someone else’s discomfort, you lose time and energy that could be spent fulfilling your purpose.

And here’s the truth: people who inject fear or discouragement into your life when you are rising are not trying to protect you. They are trying to keep themselves from feeling left behind.

Let Yourself Rise Anyway

Your job is not to manage someone else’s emotions. Your job is to rise. To shine. To step into your purpose even when it makes others uncomfortable. You can do this with compassion, but you must also do it with conviction.

We rise by lifting others. But if someone refuses to rise with you, that’s not your fault. Let your light shine anyway. You never know who might see your light and be inspired to find their own.

SLAY on.


SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you feel guilty when you succeed and others don’t?

  • Have you experienced people trying to discourage you from pursuing your goals?

  • Why do you think their fear shows up when you shine?

  • Have you ever dimmed your light to make someone else feel better?

  • What can you do to protect your peace and keep moving forward?

You don’t need to carry someone else’s fear. Let them work through it. Your job is to keep going.


Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve protected your light from someone else’s fear?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to rise because others are trying to hold them back, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is to be reminded we’re allowed to shine.

When Someone Tries To Shame Us, It Only Shames Them

Most of us have experienced it at some point.

Someone calls us out for not knowing something.
Mocks a decision we made.
Ridicules us for a mistake.
Speaks with just enough condescension to make us feel small.

Shame has a way of landing fast and hard — especially when we’re already feeling vulnerable. And in that moment, it can trigger an old, familiar ache: the part of us that once believed we were “less than,” “different,” or “not good enough.”

But here’s the truth we often forget when shame is directed at us:
When someone tries to shame you, it says far more about them than it ever does about you.

Shame is not strength.
It’s insecurity in disguise.


Shame Is a Projection Not a Truth

People who are grounded in themselves don’t need to humiliate others. They don’t gain confidence by tearing someone down. They don’t feel threatened by curiosity, learning, or different experiences.

When someone tries to shame you for not knowing something or for making a choice they believe was “obvious,” what they’re really doing is projecting their own discomfort.

It’s the need to feel superior.
The need to be right.
The need to appear knowledgeable or important.

And more often than not, that behavior is rooted in low self-esteem — not high confidence.

Shame is rarely about education or growth.
It’s about power.


Why Shame Hurts Even When We Know Better

Even when we intellectually understand that shame isn’t about us, it can still sting.

Why?

Because shame targets our most tender places — the parts of us shaped by past experiences, criticism, rejection, or moments when we were made to feel wrong for simply being human.

On the wrong day, at the wrong moment, someone’s words can slip past our logic and land directly in our nervous system.

That doesn’t mean you’re weak.
It means you’re human.

And it’s exactly why compassion — for yourself first — matters so much in these moments.


We All Come From Different Places And That Matters

No two people arrive at life with the same background, education, experiences, or opportunities. We learn different things at different times, through different paths.

That’s what makes conversations interesting.
That’s what creates diversity of thought.
That’s what keeps us growing.

It is impossible — and unreasonable — to expect anyone to know everything.

There is no shame in learning.
There is no shame in asking questions.
There is no shame in saying, “I don’t know.”

In fact, there is far more strength in curiosity than in pretending you already have all the answers.


When I Realized I Had Been on the Other Side

I can say this honestly: I haven’t always handled this perfectly.

Before I was living the life I live now, before I found self-love, self-worth, and self-respect, I had moments where I tried to elevate myself by putting someone else down.

And if I’m being truthful, I know exactly why.

I felt insecure.
I felt less than.
I felt like I needed to prove something.

Belittling someone else gave me a temporary sense of control — a fleeting boost that never lasted. And afterward, it always felt worse. Heavier. More disconnected.

Once I started living in alignment with who I truly am, that behavior didn’t just stop feeling good — it felt wrong.

Because when you build real confidence, you no longer need to steal it from someone else.


Compassion Without Tolerance

Understanding why someone shames doesn’t mean excusing it.

You can have compassion and boundaries.
You can recognize someone’s pain without accepting their behavior.
You can see the truth without internalizing it.

I don’t tolerate shaming behavior anymore — but I also don’t take it personally.

Because I know what it looks like when someone isn’t in a good place.
And I know it has nothing to do with me.


You Are Not Required to Know Everything

Let this be your reminder:

You are not required to know everything.
You are not required to be perfect.
You are not required to justify your learning curve.

There is power in humility.
There is power in growth.
There is power in owning where you are without apology.

When someone tries to shame you, remember this:
If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else.

That tells you everything you need to know.


You Control What You Carry Forward

You can’t control how others behave.
But you can control what you absorb.

You get to decide whether someone else’s insecurity becomes your burden — or whether you set it down and walk away lighter.

And here’s the truth that matters most:
Knowing who you are is far more powerful than knowing whatever someone thinks you should know.

You don’t need to shrink.
You don’t need to defend.
You don’t need to explain your worth.

Just be you.
That is enough.


SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: Have you ever been shamed for something you didn’t know or a decision you made? How did it make you feel?
L: Looking back, can you see how that moment reflected the other person’s insecurity rather than your worth?
A: Have you ever been on the other side and shamed someone else? What was going on inside you at the time?
Y: How can you choose self-respect and compassion the next time shame shows up — whether from someone else or within yourself?


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Have you experienced someone trying to shame you — and how did you handle it?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s carrying shame that isn’t theirs, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Don’t Co- Sign Someone Else’s Bullsh*t

We’ve all done it.
Gone along with something we didn’t believe in.
Put our needs aside to fix someone else’s mess.
Jumped into a problem that wasn’t ours to solve.

And let’s be honest—sometimes, we did it because it made us feel needed.
Valued.
Important.

But here’s the truth: you are not responsible for cleaning up someone else’s willful choices.

When someone makes a bad decision—especially if it’s part of a pattern—and ends up in crisis, it is not your job to bail them out.
And rushing to do so over and over?
That’s not kindness.
That’s co-signing their bullsh*t.


The Emotional Vampire Tactic

I’ve written before about Emotional Vampiresthose who feed off our time, energy, and attention.
And one of the tactics they use is convincing you to validate their chaos.

They want you to:

  • Validate their story

  • Co-sign their drama

  • Confirm their narrative that they’re always the victim

You are not required to be a supporting character in someone else’s self-destructive script.

Yes, we all need help sometimes.
And yes, it’s okay to ask for it.
But there’s a massive difference between someone reaching out for support and someone handing you a flaming mess they created—and expecting you to carry it while they sit back and light another match.


Been There, Done That

Before I walked this path, I was very familiar with this dynamic—because I was the one doing it.

I would avoid reality, avoid responsibility, and let things spiral until they became unmanageable. Then I’d panic, cry, and call for help.
And when someone came running? I felt a high.
A quick, fleeting sense of love and validation.

But it never lasted.
Because deep down, I knew I had created the crisis.
And I wasn’t learning anything from it—except how to get better at playing the victim.

That cycle drained me. And it wore out the people around me.
I’m grateful I don’t live that way anymore.
And when I see it in others now, I recognize it for what it is:
a trap.
For them—and for me.


Help Should Be a Two-Way Street

Being supportive doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself.

You can help someone—as long as they’re helping themselves.
If they’re taking action, being honest, and working toward change, that’s one thing.

But if they keep coming back with the same drama, expecting you to fix it while they do nothing?
That’s not support.
That’s codependency.

And here’s the hard truth:
Helping someone who isn’t helping themselves doesn’t help anyone.

If they’re repeating the same mistakes…
If they’re ignoring their own well-being…
If they’re draining your energy without ever filling their own cup…
You don’t have to step in.

Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is step back.


Stand Tall, Not in the Mess

Next time someone comes calling, ask yourself:

  • Are they asking for help—or a savior?

  • Is this a one-time situation—or a repeated pattern?

  • Are you working with them—or doing all the heavy lifting yourself?

If the facts don’t add up…
If your energy is being drained…
If your needs are constantly pushed aside for theirs…

That’s your answer.

You were not put on this earth to fix people who have no intention of changing.
You’re here to build and protect a life that’s worth living—and that includes knowing when to say no.

So the next time someone tries to pull you into their storm, remember:
You can love someone and still choose yourself.
You can care deeply and still walk away from the chaos.


SLAY Reflection: Are You Co-Signing the Chaos?

  1. Do you have people in your life who always seem to be in crisis?
    How often do they turn to you to fix it?

  2. Are you helping—or doing all the work for them?
    What toll does that take on you?

  3. Have you been in this dynamic more than once with the same person?
    Why do you think it keeps happening?

  4. What would it look like to support someone without sacrificing yourself?
    Can you draw that boundary?

  5. What’s one step you can take today to protect your energy and stop co-signing someone else’s drama?
    What would choosing yourself look like in this situation?


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one situation where you realized helping someone was actually hurting you—and how did you take your power back?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck playing the fixer, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Freedom: Outside Those Fences, We Build Ourselves

There was a time in my life when I was unraveling quietly.

On the outside, I was functioning. On the inside, I was doing everything I could to hide how lost I felt. During that season, a dear friend came to stay with me for a few days. We never talked about what I was going through. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t call me out. He simply saw me.

Before he left, he handed me a movie and said he thought I should watch it.

The movie was Instinct. I had never seen it. I set it on my coffee table, where it sat for months — untouched. When I finally watched it, I remember thinking it was well done, thoughtfully acted… but I didn’t understand why he’d given it to me.

It wasn’t until years later, after I had begun my healing journey, that I understood exactly what he was trying to tell me.

In the film, a character struggling to find his place in the world writes a farewell letter that includes this line:

“Freedom is not just a dream. It’s there, on the other side of those fences we build all by ourselves.”

When that line finally landed, it hit me like a wave.

My friend wasn’t offering advice.
He was offering truth.


The Fences We Build to Feel Safe Often Keep Us Trapped

Every one of us builds fences.

We build them to protect ourselves from pain, disappointment, rejection, and loss. We tell ourselves they’re necessary — that they keep us safe.

But often, those fences don’t just keep people out.
They keep us in.

The longer we stay behind them, the louder the negative chatter in our minds becomes. Fear grows comfortable. Doubt feels familiar. And the idea of stepping beyond what we know — even if what we know is painful — starts to feel terrifying.

What we call a “safety zone” slowly becomes a cage.

And from inside it, we watch others live. Love. Risk. Grow.
While we tell ourselves stories about why we can’t.


The Illusion of Safety

Here’s the hard truth:
You are not actually safe behind emotional fences.

You’re not safe from your own thoughts.
You’re not safe from resentment.
You’re not safe from the slow erosion of joy.

Survival may feel like safety — but it isn’t freedom.

When we hide, we don’t stop pain from existing. We just stop ourselves from experiencing the fullness of life that exists alongside it.

And eventually, hiding costs more than risking ever could.


Tearing Down the Fence Doesn’t Have to Happen All at Once

The good news is this: you don’t have to demolish everything overnight.

If the idea of tearing down your fences sends anxiety through your body, start smaller. Tear a hole. Open a gate. Peek through the slats.

You don’t need a wrecking ball — you need willingness.

For me, though, I tore everything down at once.

It was terrifying.

I felt exposed. Raw. Vulnerable. Like I was standing naked in front of the world, waiting to be judged.

But something unexpected happened when the fences came down.

The world came in — because I invited it to.

And I learned something powerful: the world wasn’t nearly as dangerous as I believed. There were others like me. Others who were afraid. Others who were healing.

And when we stood together, we became stronger.
Braver.
More alive.


Freedom Comes From Discernment, Not Isolation

We often tell ourselves that walls keep us safe, but real safety comes from discernment.

From choosing the right people.
The right environments.
The right truths.

Freedom doesn’t mean recklessness. It means living authentically while making informed, conscious choices.

Yes, we’ve all been hurt before.
But that was the old us.

The SLAYER standing here today has learned.
Has grown.
Has wisdom.

We don’t move forward by closing our hearts — we move forward by opening them to what aligns with who we are now.


Boundaries Are Not Fences

This is where boundaries come in.

Boundaries are not walls meant to isolate you.
They are guidelines that protect your freedom.

They communicate what is and isn’t acceptable access to you.

For me, boundaries often sound like:

  • Honesty is required

  • My time is respected

  • I’m spoken to with kindness

  • Distance is allowed when something isn’t healthy

Boundaries shift depending on the relationship and the season — and that’s okay. We are constantly evolving, and clarity requires checking in with ourselves often.

When something doesn’t feel right, that’s information.

Ask yourself:
What do I need right now to feel safe and free?


Asking for What You Need Is an Act of Freedom

One of the most liberating things you can do is ask for what you want and need.

Not everyone will be able to give it to you — and that’s okay.

But as SLAYERS, we don’t hide our needs behind fences anymore. We speak them clearly. We honor ourselves openly.

And when we do that, walls become unnecessary.

Because freedom isn’t found in hiding.
It’s found in truth.


You Were Never Meant to Live Behind the Fence

Freedom lives outside the structures we built from fear.

It lives in courage.
In connection.
In choosing alignment over avoidance.

You are not your past.
You are not the fear that once protected you.
You are not meant to stay confined.

You are meant to run free.


SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: Where in your life have you built fences instead of boundaries?
L: What fears are keeping you behind those walls?
A: What is one belief, habit, or relationship you could loosen your grip on to create more freedom?
Y: What would it look like to step outside the fence — even just a little?


Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Where do you notice yourself hiding instead of living — and what would freedom look like for you right now?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s ready to step beyond their fences, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.