life lessons

Slay Say

THE POWER OF PATIENCE

You don’t always need to explain yourself to be understood. True clarity isn’t forced—it unfolds with time.

When we rush to defend our side of the story, we often drain our energy trying to convince others who have already decided what they want to believe. That battle isn’t yours to fight.

Instead, let your actions, your consistency, and your integrity speak for you. Time has a way of revealing what words cannot.

This is your reminder that truth doesn’t need protection—it needs patience.

SLAY on!

Slay Say

FORWARD IS THE ONLY DIRECTION

Standing still might feel safe, but it’s also where dreams go to die. Waiting for the perfect moment only delays the life that’s waiting for you to claim it.

Growth requires movement—sometimes messy, sometimes uncertain, but always forward. Each step, no matter how small, breaks the cycle of waiting and creates momentum.

If you’re longing for change, stop looking for it to arrive on its own. The shift begins with you—when you take action, however imperfect, toward what you want.

This is your reminder that movement is the bridge between who you are and who you’re becoming.

SLAY on!

Slay Say

FALLING IS PART OF RISING

We often see failure as the enemy of success, when in reality, it’s the soil that growth springs from. Every mistake, stumble, or setback isn’t wasted—it plants something valuable inside you.

Those moments that feel like defeat are really shaping your resilience, sharpening your clarity, and preparing you for what comes next.

Instead of fearing failure, remember that it’s not the end of the journey. It’s simply one of the steps on the way up.

This is your reminder that setbacks are not roadblocks—they’re building blocks.

SLAY on!

Slay Say

YOUR LIGHT REFLECTED

What we admire in others is often a mirror of what already lives within us. The kindness, courage, or strength you notice in someone else doesn’t just exist outside of you—it resonates because it’s also part of you.

Too often, we downplay our own gifts while lifting others up. But the truth is, the qualities you celebrate in them are not foreign—they are familiar. They’re reminders of your own capacity, your own light, your own power shining back at you.

Instead of seeing yourself as “less than,” see the reflection for what it is: proof that you, too, carry that same brilliance.

This is your reminder that what you see in others is also alive in you.

SLAY on!

Slay Say

The journey no one clapped for created the moment they celebrate

It’s easy to admire someone’s success without ever seeing the struggles that built it. People will clap for the glow, but they rarely acknowledge the fire it came from.

Behind every highlight is a hard-fought story—quiet battles, sleepless nights, doubts you had to silence, and resilience you had to grow. The truth is, the spotlight only shows the ending; it doesn’t reveal the shadows you walked through to get there.

Your journey matters, even if no one sees it. Every step, every scar, every setback you’ve overcome is part of the strength that makes your light shine.

This is your reminder to honor the path as much as the outcome.

SLAY on!

Temporary People Teach Us Permanent Lessons

We don’t always get to choose who comes into our lives—or how long they stay. Some people walk with us for a lifetime, others for only a season. And while temporary people may leave as quickly as they came, their impact often lingers.

Sometimes it’s beautiful. Sometimes it’s heartbreaking. But always—it’s instructive.

Because even the ones who don’t stay teach us something we carry forward. Temporary people leave permanent lessons.

The Pain of Goodbyes and the Gift They Leave Behind

When someone exits your life, it can feel like rejection, abandonment, or loss. You may replay every moment, wondering what you could have done differently to make them stay. But here’s the truth: their leaving isn’t always about you.

Temporary people teach us boundaries. They teach us what we will and will not accept.
They teach us value. Sometimes by showing us what we deserve—and sometimes by showing us what we don’t.

Not all lessons are gentle. But every lesson has purpose.

What Temporary People Reflect Back to Us

Every person who crosses our path acts as a mirror. Some reflect our best qualities back at us—reminding us of the love, kindness, or courage we already hold. Others reflect the wounds we still carry, highlighting the work that’s left undone.

If you’ve ever noticed how one relationship reveals your need for boundaries, while another pushes you toward forgiveness, that’s no accident. Temporary people show us where we’re growing, and where we’re still stuck.

Even the ones who hurt us—sometimes especially the ones who hurt us—end up guiding us toward our truth.

Not Everyone Is Meant to Stay

We live in a culture that glorifies “forever.” Forever friends. Forever love. Forever loyalty. But life doesn’t always work that way.

The truth is, some people are only meant to walk us part of the way. They show up for a chapter, not the whole book. And that’s okay.

Because their role is not to stay—it’s to move us forward. To give us the lesson, the shift, the wake-up call we couldn’t have gotten any other way.

When we cling to people who were only meant to be temporary, we rob ourselves of the lesson. When we let them go with gratitude, we keep the gift they came to bring.

Choosing Growth Over Grief

It’s natural to grieve when someone leaves. But we don’t have to get stuck in the story of what “could have been.”

Instead, we can ask:
What did I learn from this connection?
How did this person shift me?
What strength did I discover because of them?

Sometimes the hardest people to release leave behind the clearest lessons. They teach us self-respect. They teach us resilience. They teach us that we can survive the leaving—and even thrive after it.

You may not have chosen their exit, but you can choose what you carry forward.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Who in your past was only meant to be temporary, but taught you something lasting?
  2. What lesson are you still carrying from a relationship that didn’t last?
  3. Do you find yourself holding on to people who were never meant to stay? Why?
  4. How does it feel to shift from grief to gratitude when you think of temporary people?
  5. What permanent strength or wisdom do you have today because someone left?

S – See the role they played in your growth
L – Let go of what wasn’t meant to last
A – Acknowledge the lessons they gave you
Y – Yield to gratitude instead of grief

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Who was a “temporary person” in your life, and what permanent lesson did they leave behind?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone struggling to let go of someone who was never meant to stay, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that even endings carry gifts.

Learning to Love the Thing You Wish Hadn’t Happened

There are moments in life that split time in two.

There’s before it happened.
And there’s after it happened.

And sometimes, that “it” is something you would give anything to erase. A betrayal. A loss. A mistake. A failure. Something that shook you so deeply that, even years later, you still catch yourself saying, “If only that had never happened…”

I’ve been there. More than once.

For a long time, I believed the only way to be truly happy again was to go back—back to the way things were before the pain, before the fallout, before the day that changed everything. But the truth is, there is no going back. There’s only forward. And learning to move forward doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t hurt, or even pretending you’re glad it happened.

It means learning to love what it taught you.

It means finding peace in the fact that this unwanted thing—this thing you thought would break you—has also shaped you into the version of yourself you are now.

The Lie We Tell Ourselves About “If Only”

When something painful happens, our minds get stuck in loops. We replay conversations. We imagine different choices. We rewrite endings that never came.

It’s a way of bargaining with reality: If only it hadn’t happened, I’d be happier. If only it hadn’t happened, I’d be whole.

But here’s the truth no one wants to admit—those loops keep us chained to the very thing we want freedom from. Every time we run through the “if only” scenario, we hand over our present to a past we cannot change.

And if we’re not careful, we start defining ourselves by the wound instead of the healing.

What It Really Means to Love the Thing You Wish Hadn’t Happened

Loving what you wish hadn’t happened doesn’t mean excusing it, approving of it, or romanticizing pain. It’s not toxic positivity, and it’s not saying, “Everything happens for a reason” as a way to shut down your feelings.

It’s about recognizing that you did survive it. That it’s part of your story. And that by accepting it instead of resisting it, you can take back your power.

When you love what you wish hadn’t happened, you’re saying:

  • “I see what this taught me, even if I never wanted the lesson.”
  • “I won’t let this moment define my future in a way that keeps me small.”
  • “I can carry this with me without letting it weigh me down.”

That shift—acceptance over resistance—is where freedom begins.

Turning Pain Into Purpose

If I look back at my own life, the moments I once wished away have given me some of my greatest strengths.

The heartbreak that shattered me? It taught me how to listen to my intuition.

The loss that felt unbearable? It taught me to love harder and to cherish the present.

The mistake I swore I’d never recover from? It humbled me, made me more compassionate, and connected me to people I never would have met otherwise.

When you learn to love what you wish hadn’t happened, you’re essentially mining your pain for gold. You’re pulling the wisdom from the rubble. You’re saying, “If I have to carry this, I will make sure it makes me stronger.”

Choosing to See the Gift

This is the hardest part—seeing the gift in the thing you never wanted.

Sometimes the gift isn’t obvious. It’s not wrapped neatly with a bow. It might take years before you see how something awful set the stage for something better.

But I believe this: Every wound has the potential to be the very thing that builds your wings.

That doesn’t happen automatically. It happens when you choose to look for the lessons. When you decide that your story will not end in tragedy, but in transformation.

You Don’t Have to Like It to Learn From It

There’s a misconception that acceptance means approval. It doesn’t. You can still hate what happened. You can still grieve it, still wish it had been different.

Acceptance is simply saying, “It happened. I can’t change that. But I can choose how I live with it.”

And sometimes, “living with it” means integrating it into your story in a way that honors your growth instead of your grief.

From Scar to Strength

Your pain is not who you are.

It’s part of your story, but it’s not your identity. The thing you wish hadn’t happened might always sting a little, but with time, the sting fades, and the scar becomes proof—not of what hurt you, but of what couldn’t break you.

When you reach the point where you can love that scar, when you can look at it and think, That’s where I grew the most, you’ve taken back what was stolen from you.

That’s when the thing you once wished away becomes the thing that shaped you into the person you were always meant to be.

SLAY Reflection

  1. What’s one event in your life you still wish had never happened?
  2. How has holding onto resistance kept you tied to it?
  3. What’s one strength, lesson, or relationship you have today because of it?
  4. How would your life look if you could accept it fully?
  5. What’s one small step you can take this week toward making peace with it?

S – Stop replaying the “if only” loop
L – Look for the lessons, even if they’re small
A – Accept that it’s part of your story, not all of it
Y – Yield to the growth it’s given you

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one thing you wish had never happened—and how has it unexpectedly shaped you for the better?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck wishing they could erase the past, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

NOT EVERY STORY IS MEANT TO STAY

Not every connection is meant to last—but every one leaves a mark.
The people who enter your life are not all forever people. Some are lessons, others reminders.
What matters most is how you choose to move forward from them.

This is your reminder to reflect on what you’ve learned, not just what you’ve lost.

SLAY on!

Slay Say

Follow Your Own Road

It’s tempting to look at someone else’s journey and think their path could be ours.
But the truth is, following someone else’s map won’t lead you to your destination.

Your journey is unique, filled with your own experiences, lessons, and growth.
Trust your steps, even when the road is unclear.
Embrace the detours and the unexpected turns—they’re all part of your personal map.

The path to self-discovery isn’t about following others; it’s about forging your own trail.
So, take a deep breath, trust yourself, and keep moving forward.
Your path is unfolding exactly as it should.

SLAY ON.

Your Best Yes Might Be the One That Scares You

It’s easy to say yes when you feel prepared, qualified, and ready.
But what about the yes that feels uncertain? The one that makes you pause and think, “Can I even do this?”

I’ve learned over the years that these are often the most important yeses—the ones that lead you somewhere you never expected, but exactly where you’re supposed to be.

For me, some of the best things in my life have happened because I said yes even when I wasn’t sure. Even when I doubted myself. Even when it was something I’d never done before.

Those yeses have taught me that courage often comes before confidence.

Saying Yes Before You Feel Ready (I Never Felt Ready Either)

If I had waited until I felt fully ready, I would have missed out on so many opportunities that shaped me.

There have been roles I’ve taken, projects I’ve joined, and events I’ve spoken at where my first instinct was, “Why me? I’ve never done this before.”
But then I’d hear this little voice reminding me:
“Just say yes. You’ll figure it out.”

And you know what? I always did. Maybe not perfectly. But growth never is.

Every time I said yes, I walked away with more than I expected—new skills, new friends, new perspectives.
You become ready by doing. Not by waiting.

The Unexpected Gifts of Taking a Chance

Some of my favorite experiences started with a hesitant yes.

  • Saying yes to a random opportunity led me to discover a new creative passion.
  • Saying yes to a conversation with someone I barely knew turned into a meaningful friendship.
  • Saying yes to a project that felt way out of my league ended up teaching me things I didn’t even know I was capable of.

If I had stayed in my comfort zone, I would have missed out on all of it.

What I’ve learned is that sometimes, that scary yes is simply the universe nudging you toward something bigger.

When Yes Isn’t About the Destination

One thing I’ve come to believe is this:
Not every yes is meant to be the grand finale.
Sometimes, it’s just meant to get you moving.

There have been plenty of times when saying yes didn’t lead me exactly where I thought it would.
But it got me out the door. It opened a new door. It connected me to people and places I wouldn’t have found otherwise.

Your yes doesn’t have to be perfect. It just has to be intentional.
You’re not committing to a lifetime. You’re committing to the next step.

Brave Yes vs. Reckless Yes: Here’s How I Tell the Difference

Let me be real—I’ve said yes to things for the wrong reasons too.
Guilt. People-pleasing. Fear of missing out.

Those yeses? They don’t feel good. They drain you.

But the brave yes?
That’s the one that feels a little scary but also exciting. The one that stretches you in the right way. The one your gut says “this could be good for me” even if your brain is panicking a little.

Now, I pause and ask myself:

  • Am I saying yes because I’m afraid of disappointing someone?
  • Or am I saying yes because it aligns with who I’m becoming?

That pause makes all the difference.

Growth Lives on the Other Side of Yes

Every time I’ve stepped into something new, even when it terrified me, I’ve grown.
Not just in skills or experiences, but in how I see myself.

By saying yes, I’ve learned to trust myself more.
To know that I can figure things out.
That even if I stumble, I’ll get back up stronger.

That’s what your best yes does—it helps you grow into the next version of you.

What’s Your Best Yes? Final Thoughts

Here’s what I want you to know:
You don’t have to feel fully ready to say yes.
You don’t have to know exactly how it will turn out.

Sometimes, your best yes is the one that simply gets you moving.
The one that introduces you to a new part of yourself.
The one that reminds you—you’re more capable than you think.

So, what’s the yes you’ve been hesitating on?
It might just be the beginning of something amazing.

Your Turn: Reflect & Take Action

Now it’s your turn. Take a moment and think about these questions:

  1. What opportunity have you been hesitating to say yes to because it feels outside your comfort zone?
    What’s really holding you back?
  2. Think of a time when you said yes even though you were unsure.
    What did you gain from that experience?
  3. What’s one small, brave yes you can give yourself this week?
    A chance to grow, connect, or simply show up differently.
  4. How do you personally tell the difference between a reckless yes and a brave yes?
    What does your body or intuition tell you?
  5. Who or what could benefit from you saying yes to yourself right now?
    Remember, your courage is contagious.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s the yes you’re ready to say, even if it scares you?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s standing on the edge of a yes, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.