Being vulnerable isn’t easy. It means showing up without the filter, letting people see the real you — fears, flaws, feelings and all. But vulnerability is not a weakness. It’s courage in its rawest form.
When we choose honesty over perfection, we create real connection — with ourselves and with others. That’s where true growth happens.
Let this be your reminder: you don’t have to have it all together to be worthy of love, support, or success.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Good morning SLAYER! Nothing changes if nothing changes.
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.
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.
When you’re ready to change but don’t know how, ask yourself:
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.
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.
I was talking with someone recently about truth—
that raw, honest place inside where there are no walls, no masks, no pretending.
That space where we allow ourselves to be vulnerable enough to let our truth speak to someone else’s truth.
That, to me, is the language of the heart:
one heart speaking to another.
Before walking this path, I didn’t speak that language. I couldn’t.
I was too afraid to let anyone see the real me.
I believed vulnerability was weakness.
I was convinced that if you saw who I really was, you’d run.
So I kept my heart closed. I played roles. I wore masks.
I hid behind a version of myself I thought the world would accept.
But all that hiding left me feeling even more isolated. Even more alone.
And the more I suppressed my truth, the more painful it became to carry it.
It took a long time to let that fear go.
To open the door—even just a crack—and let the truth come through.
I had to surrender.
Admit that my way wasn’t working.
That my silence, my pretending, my performance—it was keeping me stuck. Sick.
That surrender became a turning point.
The moment I let go of control was the moment I took my power back.
From there, I was told something that has stayed with me:
You have to be rigorously honest if you want to get better.
No more pretending. No more hiding. No more playing small.
And that honesty? It wasn’t just about speaking truth to others.
It was about telling the truth to myself. Every day. Even when it felt uncomfortable. Even when it was messy.
The more I spoke from the heart, the more comfortable I became living in that truth.
And the more honest I was, the deeper my connections became.
But I won’t lie—it wasn’t always easy.
There were still times I held things back, thinking I wasn’t ready to let them go.
But each time I did, I felt the disconnection.
The space it created. The wall it built between me and the people who loved me.
Now, I know better.
When I’m not honest, I lose those connections.
I lose myself.
Honesty—heart-led honesty—is what keeps me aligned, connected, and free.
It can feel scary to speak from the heart. To show someone your truth.
But that is the place where our most beautiful, powerful self lives.
Even when our truth is sad. Or messy. Or uncertain.
If it’s honest, it’s real.
And when we speak from that place, we give others permission to do the same.
So open your heart.
Speak your truth.
Let your light guide you—and light the way for someone else.
SLAY on.
Do you speak your truth—or do you hide behind what you think others want to hear?
What fears keep you from being fully seen?
Are those fears yours—or were they passed down to you?
How has sharing your truth helped you or someone else?
What would it look like to speak more from your heart—today?
The language of the heart is honest, raw, and real.
When we speak it, we don’t just heal ourselves—we create space for others to heal, too.
I’d love to hear from you.
What helps you speak the language of your heart?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.
And if you know someone who’s been afraid to share their truth, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is permission to be real.
Good morning SLAYER! Walk in the direction where your peace is found.
New blog goes up Tuesday, until then… SLAY on!
Good morning SLAYER! Your life only gets better when you do. Work on yourself, the rest will follow.
New blog goes up Friday, until then… SLAY on!
Hey SLAYER! Thank you to those who joined me today for an hour of SLAY TALK LIVE, for those who couldn’t join us, here’s what you missed!
Good morning SLAYER! Honesty saves you time from remembering all the lies.
SLAY on!
Coming from a life of hiding my truth, living in fear of being found out, and wanting to appear to be more than I was, I understand dishonesty. I lived a dishonest life, even from myself, so how could I be honest with others? I lied even when I didn’t need to, unaware of the weight of those lies. My life became a tangled web until I couldn’t keep track of it all, and the only truth left was that everything was unmanageable, and I had fallen so far into darkness I wasn’t sure I could find my way out.
Thankfully, someone came into my life and shared his honesty with me. That act gave me hope.
When I began walking the path of recovery, I had to learn to be honest, starting with myself. I had to stop believing the lies that kept me sick and face the truth. I had to get rigorously honest if I wanted to build a new life from the foundation up. That foundation had to be honesty. So, I rolled up my sleeves and got to work.
Facing the truth wasn’t always easy. It meant looking at my past actions, what I’d said, the harm I’d done to myself and others. My lies always pointed fingers outward, but the truth—the honest truth—was that I played a role in my pain and chaos. Letting go of my fear of judgment, I began to speak my truth. Even though my head told me not to, I charged ahead anyway. And on the other end of that honesty, I found support. People didn’t reject me or push me away—they offered their hand, their understanding, and their ear. As I shared my truth, my guilt, anger, and fear started to melt away.
I was taught, and continue to learn, to be honest about my intentions, my time, and what I am truly willing and able to contribute. It was scary at first, but as I practiced it, the results were always better. That doesn’t mean there weren’t disappointments or frustrations, but they were far fewer than when I was saying what I thought others wanted to hear.
The truth is, most people want the truth—not some made-up story to save face. Being honest shows not only respect for yourself but also for others. It shows vulnerability and opens the door for collaboration, understanding, and solutions we might not have found on our own. When we are honest, we have nothing to hide. And when we’re not spending our energy hiding, we are free.
Sometimes, we enter situations with the best intentions and realize the reality doesn’t match. Instead of pretending or keeping up appearances, try being honest. You may find that instead of working against you, others will work with you toward a solution. Even if things don’t go the way you hoped, the act of being honest itself is a win because you are speaking your truth, instead of pretending to be something—or someone—you’re not.
Be honest about who you are, what you can offer, and what you can truly give. As they say, the truth will set you free. And that freedom? It’s all in your hands.
SLAY on.
SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise
Do you tend to be honest with others? If not, why?
Are you honest with yourself? If not, why not?
Has dishonesty caused you trouble in the past? How might things have changed if you’d been honest?
What can you do today to be more honest, with yourself and others?
Are you afraid of honesty? Why?
How can you begin letting go of fear and speak your truth?
Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one truth you’re ready to speak today—about yourself or to someone else?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.
And if you know someone struggling to be honest with themselves, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is permission to tell the truth.
