emotional growth

Do You Like To Star In Your Own Junkologue?

We all have a past. We all have pain. But some of us don’t just carry it—we perform it. Over and over. Like a monologue we’ve rehearsed so well, it becomes our identity. If that sounds familiar, you might be starring in what I call your junkologue.

It’s that loop where you retell the same stories of pain, betrayal, and hardship—not to heal, but to get a reaction. Maybe it’s sympathy. Maybe it’s validation. Maybe it’s just to be seen. But here’s the thing: living in your junk keeps you from living in your truth.

Are You Telling It or Reliving It?

There’s a difference between sharing your story and clinging to it. We often convince ourselves we’re “working through” something when in reality, we’re rehashing it to stay stuck.

Before I found the courage to get help, I was the lead in my junkologue. I told my tales of pain like war stories—always the victim, never the villain. I’d exaggerate to gain sympathy or manipulate situations to my advantage. It wasn’t humility. It was a form of emotional exhibitionism—a way to keep myself small while trying to feel important.

I told myself I was being vulnerable. But I wasn’t. I was addicted to the attention my wounds gave me. And the people who stuck around? They were often stuck in their own junk too. Misery doesn’t just love company—it curates it.

The Shift From Performance to Purpose

Everything changed when I started asking the hard questions: Why am I telling this story? What am I hoping to gain? Am I using it to inspire—or to indulge?

That’s when I discovered what true humility really meant. It wasn’t putting myself down publicly for applause. It was being honest about my part in the story. It was making amends, not just confessions.

Now, if I share a piece of my past, it’s with purpose—to support, connect, or guide. Not to center myself in pain, but to show what healing looks like.

Your junkologue doesn’t have to be your identity. It can be your origin story—but only if you let yourself grow beyond it.

What’s Your Motivation?

Your story is powerful. But ask yourself: Are you using it to heal—or to hide?

  • Are you sharing to connect, or to compete?
  • Are you expressing yourself, or performing a role?
  • Are you owning your part—or just retelling how others hurt you?

If you’re constantly the victim in every version of your story, it might be time to zoom out. See your patterns. See your choices. See your growth.

Because you are not your worst moments. You are not your junk. You are who you decide to become next.

Being a SLAYER Means Owning the Mic With Intention

We’ve all survived things. But survival isn’t the goal—thriving is.

So the next time you feel the urge to share your junkologue, pause. Ask yourself: Is this for healing, or habit? Is this story helping me evolve—or keeping me stuck?

When we tell our stories with ownership, honesty, and heart, they lift us—and those listening. When we tell them for attention or control, they keep us in the shadows.

You get to choose which version you tell. And more importantly—you get to choose what comes next.

Step out of your junkologue, and into your power. That’s how we Slay.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you tend to repeat certain stories from your past? Why?
  2. How do you feel during and after sharing those stories?
  3. What are you hoping others will give you when you share them?
  4. Are you honest about your part in those stories?
  5. What could shift if you reframed your story as a source of strength, not pain?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Share with purpose, not pity
  • Let go of old narratives that no longer serve
  • Acknowledge your part and your progress
  • You control the next chapter of your story

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Do you ever catch yourself performing your junkologue? What helps you shift into healing mode instead?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

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

It’s Not The Pain That Helps Us Grow, It’s Our Response To It

Before I stepped onto this path, I walked through a lot of pain.

Not gracefully.
Not reflectively.
More like a storm spinning out of control—reactive, destructive, and exhausting.

I told myself, and was often told by others, that the pain was making me stronger. That suffering was proof of growth. That endurance alone was somehow building character.

But looking back, I can see the truth much more clearly now:

The pain wasn’t strengthening me.
My response to it was weakening me.

And in many cases, I was the source of my own pain.

That realization wasn’t comfortable—but it was freeing. Because it showed me that growth was never about how much pain I endured. It was about what I did after the pain showed up.

Pain Is Inevitable Suffering Is Optional

Pain is part of being human.

We get hurt.
We get disappointed.
We get blindsided—sometimes by others, sometimes by life itself.

But pain alone doesn’t create growth.

Pain without awareness creates repetition.
Pain without reflection creates cycles.
Pain without honesty keeps us stuck.

What determines growth isn’t the pain itself—it’s whether we react from old wounds or respond with clarity.

And there is always a choice.

Reaction Keeps Us Stuck Response Moves Us Forward

There’s a difference between reacting and responding.

Reaction is impulsive.
It’s emotional.
It’s driven by fear, old stories, and survival patterns.

Response is intentional.
It’s grounded.
It’s guided by truth instead of triggers.

When I reacted to pain, I made choices that caused more pain—burning bridges, sabotaging myself, repeating patterns I swore I wanted to escape.

When pain wasn’t self-inflicted, that was where growth became possible—if I was willing to respond instead of explode.

The Myth That Pain Builds Strength

One of the most damaging stories we tell ourselves is that pain itself makes us stronger.

That belief often keeps us tolerating what we shouldn’t.
It keeps us in harmful relationships.
It keeps us justifying self-destructive behavior.

Pain doesn’t build strength.

Choices build strength.

The strength comes from what you learn.
From what you release.
From what you decide not to repeat.

The old narrative—that suffering proves worth or resilience—often keeps us returning to the same sources of harm, believing it’s “part of the process.”

It isn’t.

Getting the Facts Is How We Grow Safely

One of the core truths I return to again and again is this:
When we have the facts, we are safe.

Not the feelings.
Not the assumptions.
Not the stories shaped by past wounds.

The facts.

Looking at pain honestly—without embellishment, blame, or denial—allows us to understand its source. And once we understand the source, we gain power.

Power to choose differently.
Power to set boundaries.
Power to walk away instead of reenacting.

Pain becomes useful only when it’s investigated.

We Always Have More Control Than We Think

Here’s the part that changes everything:

We don’t control whether pain shows up—but we do control how much we let it stay.

We can:

  • Let it fester

  • Turn it into resentment

  • Use it for sympathy

  • Or learn from it and release it

Sometimes simply letting pain go is growth.

Not every wound needs a deep dive. Some lessons are learned by choosing not to engage again.

And when you’re living from self-love and honesty, destructive reactions stop feeling good. Self-sabotage loses its appeal.

Because why tear down something you’re finally learning to build?

Pain Is a Teacher Not a Home

Pain is meant to inform you—not define you.

It shows you where boundaries are needed.
It highlights what isn’t aligned.
It reveals patterns asking to be broken.

But pain is not meant to be lived in.

When you respond with curiosity instead of chaos, pain becomes data. And data leads to discernment. And discernment leads to peace.

That’s growth.

Turning Pain Into a Gift

You may have never paused to ask yourself how you typically respond to pain.

So the next time it shows up, try this:

Strip away the story.
Remove the emotional overlay.
Look at the facts.

What actually happened?
What role did you play?
What part was within your control?
What can you learn?

When you do this, pain stops being something that happens to you—and becomes something that works for you.

The greatest gift pain can offer is information.

And information, used wisely, changes everything.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: What do you believe is the main source of pain in your life right now?
L: How much of that pain are you creating, allowing, or repeatedly engaging with?
A: When pain shows up, do you tend to react or respond—and how is that serving you?
Y: What could change if you chose to learn from pain instead of letting it control you?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How has your response to pain shaped your growth—or where do you feel called to respond differently now?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck believing pain itself is the path, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Forgive Your Monsters, Don’t Let Them Take Anymore, They’ve Taken Enough

There are monsters that live in our past. Some still haunt our present. They take from us. Our joy. Our confidence. Our peace. But here’s the truth:

They only keep taking if we keep letting them.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean making excuses. It doesn’t mean forgetting. It means cutting the cord. Reclaiming your power. Choosing not to carry someone else’s damage on your back any longer.

You Can Forgive Without Forgetting

When I started to heal, I was told I needed to get honest—rigorously honest. That included facing the monsters I had let into my life. And yes, some were people who had deeply wronged me. Others were habits, patterns, or situations I kept returning to even when they hurt.

What I realized? I had played a part in letting some of those monsters in.

Whether it was staying in toxic relationships, seeking validation in the wrong places, or betraying myself to avoid being alone—I had to own my side of the story.

That doesn’t excuse the harm. But it gave me the clarity I needed to say: enough. And the strength to walk away.

You Are Not Powerless Unless You Say You Are

Monsters thrive in silence. In secrecy. In shame.

They feed off the energy we give them—even if it’s hate, resentment, or pain.

But we have a choice.

You can take that pain and turn it into wisdom. You can use your past to protect your future. You can decide that today, right now, you will no longer allow what broke you to define you.

Forgiveness is not a gift to them. It’s a gift to you. It’s how you say:

“You no longer get to live rent-free in my mind.”

The Monsters Don’t Disappear, But Their Power Can

For many of us, the past still whispers. The memories still echo. That’s okay.

The goal isn’t to erase it. The goal is to disarm it.

To say:

  • I see what happened.
  • I know how it shaped me.
  • And I am choosing to rise anyway.

That is real power.

You can carry the lesson without reliving the nightmare. You can remember without re-opening the wound. You can forgive the monster and protect the warrior you’re becoming.

Take Your Power Back

If your monsters still show up in your thoughts, your choices, your relationships—ask yourself why. What are they still taking? And more importantly, what are you ready to take back?

You don’t need to justify their behavior to forgive them.

You just need to stop letting them lead your life.

Forgive what you can. Accept what you must. And then: leave the rest.

There is no space in this new chapter for what tried to destroy you.

You are the author now. And your story gets to look different.

Let your purpose lead. It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Who or what still holds power over your peace?
  2. In what ways have you given your energy to the past?
  3. How might forgiveness free you, not them?
  4. What lessons can you carry without carrying the pain?
  5. What boundary or action will help you reclaim your power today?

S – Stop giving power to the past
L – Look at your part with honesty, not blame
A – Accept what you can’t change, change what you can
Y – Yield to growth and move forward free

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What have you learned by forgiving someone who hurt you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in their pain, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Contrary Action

When I first began this path, I had to rewire the way I thought—completely.

My mind defaulted to negativity. It convinced me people were against me. It whispered that I’d never make it, that I didn’t belong, that failure was inevitable. And because I believed it, I acted on it. That belief nearly cost me everything.

So when I committed to healing—to getting better, to learning how to love myself and live differently—I had to learn something new: contrary action.

Prefer to listen? The Audio Blog version is available here.

What Is Contrary Action?

Quite simply, contrary action means doing the opposite of what you would normally do—especially if what you’ve always done hasn’t brought you peace, joy, or healing.

It’s breaking patterns.
It’s pausing before reacting.
It’s asking: What’s the loving, honest response here?

That pause is the magic.

At State of Slay™, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—life is not a game show.
There is no prize for the fastest answer.
And most of the time, our fastest answer is coming from an old wound or old wiring.

A Different Way to Respond

In the beginning, I had to practice contrary action nearly every time I opened my mouth—or even thought about opening my mouth.
It didn’t come naturally. In fact, it felt strange.
Awkward. Uncomfortable. Like backing down.

But here’s what I learned:

  • I wasn’t backing down—I was growing up.
  • I wasn’t avoiding conflict—I was choosing peace.
  • I wasn’t shrinking—I was showing up for myself in a new, more aligned way.

Old me might’ve lied to get what I wanted, manipulated to stay in control, or started a fight just to feel something.
New me? Learned to take a breath. To tell the truth. To walk away if needed.
That shift changed everything.

Building a New Foundation

Practicing contrary action gave me something I hadn’t had in a long time: self-esteem.

Every time I did the right thing—even when it felt weird or hard—it built a new brick in the foundation I now stand on.
And once I started building that self-esteem, I didn’t want to do things that tore it down.

Was it always easy? No.
Did I mess up sometimes? Absolutely.
But the more I practiced contrary action, the more I started to trust myself—and life began to open up in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

10 Ways to Practice Contrary Action

Here are a few simple ways you can try it today:

  1. Give someone a compliment when you’re feeling jealous or insecure.
  2. Own your part instead of seeking revenge.
  3. Take a walk instead of reaching for something to numb the feeling.
  4. Breathe deeply instead of lashing out.
  5. Visualize the life you want instead of reliving your worst decisions.
  6. Remember a win when fear tells you to quit.
  7. Take time for yourself instead of saying there’s never enough time.
  8. Say no with love instead of saying yes out of guilt.
  9. Go to bed instead of scrolling endlessly.
  10. Speak about dreams instead of gossip.

Each time you choose contrary action, you’re choosing yourself.
You’re choosing growth.
You’re choosing a future that looks nothing like your past.

SLAY Reflection: Where Can You Shift?

  1. Do you tend to react quickly without thinking?
    What’s usually the result?
  2. Have old patterns led you into places you didn’t want to go?
    How did it feel?
  3. What could’ve gone differently if you had paused—or chosen contrary action?
  4. Where in your life could you try the opposite of what you’d normally do?
    How might that change things?
  5. Who can you talk to when you’re unsure how to respond?
    Could their insight offer a healthier way forward?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you can practice contrary action this week—especially when your first instinct is to go back to old patterns?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in the same old loops, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a new way to move forward.

Don’t Play Victim To The Circumstances You Created

Let’s get real for a moment.

We don’t always make the best choices. Sometimes we act on impulse. Sometimes we ignore red flags. And sometimes, even with every sign pointing us in a better direction, we choose to go the other way—and then cry foul when things fall apart.

But here’s the truth: if we knowingly put ourselves in a bad situation, we don’t get to play the victim when the outcome isn’t what we hoped for.

That might sound harsh, but it’s a lesson many of us—myself included—have had to learn the hard way.

Prefer to listen? The Audio Blog version is available here.

Owning Our Choices

Back when I was living in the dark, I made a lot of questionable choices. And truthfully, I often knew they weren’t the right ones. But I made them anyway. Why? Because deep down I believed I didn’t deserve good things. I believed I was broken. So I acted in ways that reinforced that belief—sabotaging myself, then turning around and asking why the world was so unfair.

What I was really doing was manipulating the narrative to fit the story I had already decided about myself:
I’m a bad person. Bad things happen to me. I deserve it.

It was a cycle of self-sabotage. And every time it backfired—as I knew it would—I’d call out for sympathy. And when that didn’t come fast enough or in the way I wanted? I felt even more victimized.

Sound familiar?

A New Way Forward

Everything changed when I started believing I was worthy of love—and that I deserved good things. When I embraced self-worth, my decision-making shifted. I started making choices that supported the life I wanted, not the one I feared I was stuck in.

Were those decisions always easy? No. But they were rooted in truth. In integrity. In strength.

When we know better and choose better, we don’t need to cry out for sympathy—we stand in our power. We hold ourselves accountable. And we become the kind of person we’re proud of.

You Are Not a Victim of Yourself

This isn’t about perfection. We all mess up. We all learn. Life will always throw curveballs—some we never saw coming. But there’s a difference between an honest misstep and a willful march toward chaos.

If you’ve been given the tools, the truth, the gut feeling—and you still go against it—own the outcome.

That’s not failure. That’s growth.

So when you find yourself at a crossroads, pause. Ask:

  • Am I acting from fear, or from love?
  • Is this the path I truly believe will serve me, or am I just clinging to comfort?

Make decisions from your strength—not your sabotage.

Stand tall. Stand proud. And take responsibility for the life you’re building—one choice at a time.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

Do you make decisions that you know aren’t in your best interest?

  • What drives those choices?
  • Do you expect others to rescue you when things go wrong?
  • How do you feel when people don’t show up the way you want them to?
  • What would it look like to choose differently next time?
  • Write a list of 5 reasons you deserve good things in your life. Keep it close.
    Let those reasons guide you toward better choices—choices that bring you peace, not pain.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one shift you’ve made that helped you stop sabotaging your peace and start standing in your power?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who keeps repeating the same patterns, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that we’re worth the work.