mental health awareness

How Is Your Now?

Fear can show up in sneaky ways. It did just the other day—while talking with a group of women, someone brought up fear, and we all shifted in our seats.

There’s a lot of uncertainty in the world right now. And with uncertainty often comes fear. But most fear doesn’t live in the present—it lives in the past or the future. That’s what makes it so tricky. It takes us out of the only place where we have power: the now.

When I feel fear creeping in—and I have, especially recently—I bring myself back to the present. I ground myself in gratitude. I focus on my breath. I ask: How is my now?

Because right now, in this moment, I’m okay.

Living Outside the Now

Before I began walking this path, I didn’t live in the now. I lived everywhere but here. I obsessed over what had already happened or worried about what might come next. I was spinning—and because I wasn’t grounded in the present, I couldn’t take meaningful action.

My life became unmanageable. Fear ran the show. And instead of facing what was in front of me, I avoided it. I let things slide. I convinced myself that if I ignored the chaos long enough, it might resolve itself. Spoiler: it didn’t.

Eventually, the only way forward was through. I had to stop hiding from the now and start making peace with it. Slowly, the present stopped feeling like a battlefield and started becoming a place of peace—a space where I could reflect, reset, and realign.

The more I committed to living in the now, the less power fear had over me. It still visits, of course. But today, I don’t let it drive. I stay focused on the moment—and when I do, I can breathe again.

Return to What’s in Front of You

We don’t know what tomorrow holds. We can’t change what’s already happened. But we can choose how we show up today.

Even when life feels uncertain, we can find clarity by focusing on what’s in front of us. One step. One breath. One moment at a time.

This is how we quiet the fear. This is how we get grounded.

And if the now doesn’t feel great? That’s okay. The present is still the place where change can happen. We get to respond differently. We get to choose a new direction.

Ask yourself: How is my now? And if you don’t like the answer, know that this is the best place to begin again.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: How Is Your Now?

  • Do you often get pulled into the past or future? How does that impact your emotional state?
  • What role does fear play in your life when you’re not present?
  • How do you feel when you manage to stay grounded in the now?
  • What tools or habits help you return to the present moment?
  • If today feels heavy, what’s one thing you can do right now to lighten the load?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’re bringing yourself back to the now when fear tries to take over?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in fear or uncertainty, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a moment of presence to find our power again.

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.

Our Dark Past Is The Greatest Possession We Have

There was a time when I thought my pain would consume me. Now, I know—it shaped me. Our darkest moments hold the power to help others find light. The only question is: are you willing to share them?

The Unimaginable Becomes a Gift

When I was deep in my darkest season, I couldn’t imagine ever looking back and seeing value in it. Survival itself felt uncertain. There was no part of me that thought these experiences would one day be considered my greatest possession. But that changed.

It wasn’t until I found recovery that I started to understand. I saw firsthand how someone else’s story could offer hope. One man’s courage to speak his truth gave me the strength to try and heal mine. His vulnerability saved my life. That was the beginning of everything.

The Power of Sharing Our Story

Early on, I didn’t believe my story held any value. I thought I needed to be “further along” to help someone else. But then, someone newer than me on this path looked at my progress with awe—and I realized we all have something to offer, no matter where we are.

Whether you’re in the thick of healing or years into your journey, someone else needs to hear what you’ve lived through. You don’t need a polished narrative or a perfect ending. Just your truth. That truth might be the very thing that keeps someone else going.

Letting Go of Shame

For a long time, I only shared the highlight reel. The idea of speaking about my pain? Terrifying. I feared judgment, labels, being seen as broken. But the truth is—I was already saying worse things to myself in silence. And pretending was exhausting.

Letting go of that fear and finally sharing my truth didn’t just help others—it saved me. The freedom that came from owning my past, rather than hiding it, was life-changing. The more I opened up, the more I connected. The more I connected, the less alone I felt.

Reclaiming the Narrative

Looking back, it’s almost shocking how much has changed. My darkest chapters no longer control me—they empower me. I’ve taken responsibility, found forgiveness, and made new choices. That transformation gave me back my power.

And maybe the most beautiful part? It allowed me to receive the light of others, too. I no longer walk alone. None of us have to. We can walk together—on our own paths, side by side—with the courage to show up exactly as we are.

There’s no greater victory than turning your pain into purpose. And no greater connection than meeting someone else in theirs.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Have you found meaning in your darkest moments? What did they teach you?
  2. Is there a part of your story you’re still afraid to share? Why?
  3. Has someone else’s vulnerability ever helped you heal? What impact did it have?
  4. How can you begin to turn your past into a source of light for others?
  5. What would it feel like to release shame and step fully into your truth?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Speak your truth, even if your voice shakes.
  • Let your past be a bridge, not a burden.
  • Acknowledge your growth—and honor it.
  • You can help someone else heal by being real.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
How has your dark past shaped your present strength?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s ready to turn their pain into power, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Don’t Let Your Mind Bully Your Body

It was in my teens that I first remember turning against my body.

I had been a thin, athletic kid, comfortable in my skin — and then things started to change. My body began doing things I didn’t understand and didn’t want. It started drawing attention I didn’t ask for. And instead of curiosity, I felt betrayal.

I felt like my body had turned on me.

I already carried discomfort inside myself — parts of who I was that I kept hidden — and when my body began changing, it only amplified that discomfort. I started comparing myself to everyone around me. Measuring myself against them. Finding myself lacking in every direction.

Nothing ever felt good enough.

And that’s when the spiral began — not in my body, but in my mind.

My mind started bullying my body.

When Control Becomes the Goal

Looking back now, I can see it clearly.

What I was really afraid of wasn’t my body — it was not being in control.

There were so many things in my life I felt powerless over, and my changing body felt like the final betrayal. So I did what I thought would give me control back.

I tried to stop it.
Manipulate it.
Shrink it.
Silence it.

That path led to an eating disorder — one I was lucky to recover from.

It took years to heal. Years to rebuild trust with food. Years to rebuild trust with my body. And even now, there are still days I have to stay conscious and accountable with my thinking.

What makes me sad looking back isn’t my body — it’s the hatred I had for myself.

There was never anything wrong with my body.

The Voice Was the Real Problem

I see now that the damage wasn’t physical — it was mental.

The voice in my head was cruel.
Relentless.
Unforgiving.

The more I hated myself, the louder it got.

I wanted to disappear into the crowd.
Blend in.
Not be noticed.
Not be questioned.

So I tried to control myself into invisibility.

That voice told me I was the problem.
That my body was the problem.
That I had to fix it to be acceptable.

But the truth is: my body was never the enemy.

My mind was.

Learning a New Relationship

Today, I appreciate my body.

Not because it looks a certain way —
but because of what it does for me.

It carries me.
It heals.
It protects.
It supports my life.

And while I still have days where old thoughts creep in — because healing isn’t linear — I no longer live in war with myself.

I no longer punish my body for existing.

I no longer try to control it out of fear.

I no longer define my worth by how it looks.

Health Without Hate

There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel healthy.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to feel strong.
There’s nothing wrong with wanting to care for your body.

But when self care is driven by self hatred, it becomes harm.

We are not meant to all look the same.
We are not meant to fit one mold.
We are not meant to match one standard.

Different shapes.
Different sizes.
Different structures.
Different beauty.

Every body is valid.

Changing the Relationship, Not the Reflection

Healing doesn’t start in the mirror.

It starts in the mind.

In how we speak to ourselves.
In how we interpret our reflection.
In how we define worth.
In how we measure value.

Your body doesn’t need to be fixed.
It needs to be respected.

Your Body Is Not the Problem

Your body is not your failure.
Your body is not your enemy.
Your body is not your shame.

It’s your home.

And it deserves compassion — not cruelty.

Care — not control.
Respect — not punishment.
Safety — not shame.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: What negative thoughts do you carry about your body?
L: Where did those beliefs come from?
A: What would change if you spoke to your body with compassion instead of criticism?
Y: How can you start practicing care instead of control today?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What is one way you can start treating your body with more kindness today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who struggles with body shame, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Laughter: A Sign Of Good Health

When I first stepped onto my healing path, laughter felt impossible.

There was nothing funny about where I found myself. Emotionally, physically, spiritually I was exhausted. My life felt fragile. Every moment felt heavy. I was focused on survival, not joy.

So when I began seeking support from others who had walked similar roads, one thing surprised me.

They laughed.

Not in denial. Not in avoidance. Real laughter. Honest laughter. Healing laughter.

At first, I did not understand it. How could someone laugh about struggles, mistakes, pain, or dark seasons? But slowly I began to realize something powerful.

Laughter was not dismissing the pain.

It was proof they had moved through it.

And that realization gave me hope.

The Healing Power Of Humor

My mom has always said, “If I lose my sense of humor, I lose everything.”

She said it through illness, discomfort, uncertainty, and some very difficult seasons. Watching her hold onto humor even in pain showed me that laughter is not about circumstances. It is about resilience.

When I began my own recovery, I held onto that wisdom. The work ahead of me was serious. I had to face truths, take responsibility, and learn new ways of living. But I did not have to take myself so seriously all the time.

That distinction changed everything.

Humor did not erase the work. It helped me carry it.

And sometimes, laughter was the only light available in an otherwise heavy day.

When Laughter Becomes A Bridge

Something unexpected happened as my healing progressed.

I began laughing with others who had similar experiences.

We laughed about things that once felt devastating. Not because they were trivial, but because we had survived them. Laughter became a shared language of understanding. It created connection, compassion, and perspective.

There is something incredibly bonding about laughing with someone who truly understands your journey. It reminds you that you are not alone. It transforms isolation into community.

And that connection is powerful medicine.

Laughter does not isolate. It invites.

The Difference Between Healing Humor And Hiding Humor

I also had to learn an important distinction.

For years I had used humor as armor. I deflected serious conversations. I made jokes instead of admitting pain. I laughed things off rather than facing them.

That kind of humor keeps healing at a distance.

True healing laughter feels different. It comes from humility, acceptance, and growth. It does not belittle yourself or others. It does not minimize reality. It simply allows joy to exist alongside truth.

Once I understood that, laughter stopped being a shield and became a source of strength.

And that shift made all the difference.

Perspective Changes Everything

Looking back now, some of the choices I made during difficult periods honestly make me laugh.

At the time, I justified everything. I believed I was coping, surviving, protecting myself. But hindsight brings clarity. And sometimes, clarity brings humor.

Not mocking. Not shame.

Perspective.

Being able to laugh at past versions of myself means I have grown. It means I am no longer stuck there. It means healing happened.

And that is something worth smiling about.

Why Laughter Supports Mental And Emotional Health

There is actual science behind this too.

Laughter reduces stress hormones, increases endorphins, supports immune function, and improves emotional regulation. It relaxes the body, shifts perspective, and enhances connection with others.

But beyond biology, laughter signals something deeper.

Hope.

When you can laugh again, even gently, it often means healing has begun.

It means you are reconnecting with life.

And that is powerful.

Finding Light In Dark Seasons

There were days when finding humor felt impossible. Those days happen to everyone. Healing is not linear, and laughter does not mean everything is perfect.

Sometimes it just means you found one small moment of light.

One memory. One conversation. One silly observation. One unexpected smile.

And sometimes that small moment is enough to carry you forward.

Laughter does not deny hardship.

It coexists with it.

And often, it helps transform it.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: When was the last time you laughed freely, and how did it make you feel afterward?

L: Do you ever use humor to hide how you really feel instead of expressing it honestly?

A: What difficult moment from your past can you now look at with compassion or even gentle humor?

Y: How could inviting more lightness into your life support your healing and emotional health right now?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How has laughter helped you heal, cope, or find perspective during a difficult season?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who could use a reminder that joy can exist alongside struggle, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

H.O.P.E. – Help Other People Everyday

There was a time in my life when I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep living.

I kept everything bottled inside — my fear, my pain, my confusion, and the constant battle in my head that told me I wasn’t enough. I carried that darkness quietly, pretending I could handle it alone, that asking for help was weakness.

But eventually I hit a moment I couldn’t escape:
I was scared of what I might do to myself just to quiet the pain.

It was in that darkest moment that something shifted.

A story came back to me — a story a friend had shared about his own struggle. At the time I heard it, it was just a story. A powerful one, sure, but still just something I listened to and admired from a distance.

Months later, on that frightening night, I recognized myself in the beginning of his story — the part where suffering feels endless and hopeless.

And that recognition changed everything.

Hope Isn’t Just a Feeling — It’s Something We Receive and Give

I often wonder how many times we underestimate the power of connection.

That story my friend shared didn’t cure me. It didn’t fix everything. But it showed up in the exact moment I needed it — and that was enough to keep me moving forward.

Not because the pain was gone…
But because I finally saw that I wasn’t alone.

That recognition — that someone else had walked through darkness and found light — gave me a reason to keep going. That was the beginning of my own journey back to life.

And because someone shared their truth, I found hope.

Showing Up Is the Smallest — Yet Most Powerful — Act of Service

Hope doesn’t always arrive in grand gestures.

Sometimes it shows up in the simplest things:

A smile.
A hello.
A listening ear.
A message that says, I see you.

When we simply show up, we affirm someone’s worth — even when they can’t feel it themselves.

You never know who’s watching quietly from the sidelines, waiting for proof that they matter. You never know whose heart is in the dark, searching for a light.

That’s why helping others — even in small ways — matters more than we can imagine.

What We Give May Be the Hope Someone Needs to Survive

One of the most humbling things I learned is that stories matter.

Not because they are polished or perfect —
but because they are real.

When I finally shared my own journey — not just the finished version but the messy, painful beginnings — something clicked. Other people saw themselves in it. They recognized their struggle in the cracks of my story. It reminded them that they, too, could keep going.

That’s the power of truth.

It connects us.
It heals us.
It saves lives.

And sometimes the hope we give to others becomes a source of strength for ourselves.

You Don’t Have to Fix Someone to Help Them

Helping others doesn’t always mean solving their problems.

Sometimes it means:

Showing up
Listening without judgment
Sharing your story
Being present
Being consistent
Offering compassion
Willingness to care even when it’s hard

Helping others is how we remind them —
and ourselves — that we matter.

Hope Isn’t About Perfection

Hope isn’t a destination.
It’s a presence.

It doesn’t mean everything is okay.
It doesn’t erase pain.
It doesn’t suddenly make life easy.

But it reminds us that we don’t have to walk through pain alone.

And that it’s okay to ask for help.
Not just once — many times.
Not just when it’s convenient — but when it’s hardest.

Because in asking for help, we make space for others to help us — and through that exchange, something powerful unfolds.

You Never Know Who Is Watching

There’s a truth we overlook:

When you help someone — even with the tiniest kindness — you never know how far that ripple goes.

Your story might be the reason someone keeps going.
Your presence might be the reason someone feels seen.
Your kindness might be the moment that lights someone’s path.

And sometimes — years later — that person you helped could tell someone else about it.

Hope multiplies.
It doesn’t stay in one heart.
It spreads.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: Who in your life gave you hope when you needed it most?
L: How has someone else’s journey inspired your own healing?
A: What simple action can you take today to offer hope to another person?
Y: How might your vulnerability be a gift to someone else who feels alone?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
When has someone’s presence or story given you hope — and how did it change your journey?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who might be struggling today, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that hope exists.

Wanting To Be Forgotten

For a long time, I didn’t want to stand out.

I wanted to blend into the background. To disappear into the scenery. I believed that if I stayed unnoticed, no one would see what I was so certain was true about me—that I wasn’t worthy, wasn’t good enough, didn’t belong.

So I learned how to hide in plain sight.

That might sound strange given the profession I chose, but acting became the perfect disguise. I could hide behind characters. Behind scripts. Behind versions of myself that felt safer than the truth. And in that way, I wasn’t so different from anyone else. We all learn to play roles. To adapt. To become what we think is acceptable so questions aren’t asked and attention doesn’t linger too long.

When the risk of being singled out feels dangerous, we camouflage ourselves and hope we’re forgotten.

The Masks We Wear to Avoid Being Seen

Some of us don’t just blend in—we carefully construct a persona.

A version of ourselves that feels more likable. More acceptable. Less risky. We hope that if the persona is convincing enough, the real us will disappear completely.

For me, this created a quiet kind of torment.

I didn’t want to stand out, yet I desperately wanted to be liked. I wanted the version of myself I had created to be noticed and validated, while the real me stayed hidden.

It was an impossible contradiction.
A game I could never win.

The more masks I wore, the more disconnected I became. I had been playing different roles for so long that I no longer knew who I was underneath them all.

When Hiding Becomes Survival

As my mental illness took hold, the desire to disappear grew stronger.

I felt like life was moving forward without me. Like everyone else was advancing while I stayed stuck, running from a darkness that never stopped chasing me. When it caught up, it dragged me backward again.

I didn’t want anyone to see that.

So I hid.

I hid the fear.
I hid the despair.
I hid the exhaustion of pretending I was okay.

My illness told me I was forgettable. That I didn’t matter. That if I were gone, no one would even notice.

And the most dangerous part?
I believed it.

Letting the Light In Changed Everything

Everything shifted the moment I told a trusted friend the truth.

For the first time, I stopped hiding. I let the masks fall away. I let the light in.

What was revealed wasn’t polished or put together. It was broken. Lost. Empty. Afraid.

And instead of being judged or rejected, I was met with compassion.

No one hurt me.
No one shamed me.
No one turned away.

I was met with encouragement, hope, and love.

Standing there in my vulnerability was terrifying—but for the first time in my life, I was fully myself. No roles. No performance. No pretending.

And it felt like relief.

Pretending Is Exhausting and It Keeps Us Sick

Pretending takes work.

It requires constant vigilance. Constant fear of being “found out.” Constant self-monitoring to make sure the mask doesn’t slip.

And the truth is, pretending doesn’t protect us—it slowly erodes us.

It keeps us disconnected.
It keeps us anxious.
It keeps us stuck in survival mode.

For me, pretending kept me sick. And I was getting sicker.

Healing didn’t come from becoming someone else. It came from finally allowing myself to be who I was—without apology.

Learning You Are Enough As You Are

It took time to build self-love. To learn self-respect. To reach a place where I no longer felt the need to hide.

But I made it there.

Today, I know this: whatever my best self looks like in any given moment is enough. If I fall or make a mistake, I can repair, learn, and try again—as long as I stay true to myself.

I no longer want to be forgotten.

I want to be of service.
I want to help.
I want to share my story.

Not for approval. Not for validation. But because it’s my truth—and there is nothing to be ashamed of in that.

I own my story.
I own my truth.
And when I walk in that honesty, I know I am exactly where I’m meant to be.

That is what I want to be remembered for.

You Were Never Meant to Disappear

If you’ve spent your life trying to stay hidden, hear this:

You don’t deserve to be forgotten.
You don’t need to erase yourself to be accepted.
You don’t need a mask to be worthy.

The world doesn’t need a more palatable version of you.
It needs you.

Your real voice.
Your real heart.
Your real presence.

That is who we remember.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: In what ways do you hide or minimize yourself in your daily life?
L: What part of you feels “unacceptable,” and where did that belief come from?
A: What would it look like to remove one mask and show up more honestly?
Y: If you stopped trying to be forgotten, who could you allow yourself to become?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever tried to disappear to protect yourself—and what helped you start showing up again?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s hiding because they don’t feel worthy of being seen, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

You Can’t Change The Past, But You Can Change How It Affects You

There is no going back.

No rewinding. No editing. No alternate ending where we made the perfect choice every time. The past is fixed. It happened. And for a long time, I let mine define me.

Before I began this healing journey, I used my past as proof that I was a victim. I told those stories in ways that supported that narrative. Sometimes I wanted sympathy. Sometimes I wanted validation. Sometimes I wanted an excuse for behavior I knew was not aligned with who I truly wanted to be.

And here is the truth I eventually had to face.

In many of those situations, I had a role. Sometimes a small one. Sometimes a big one. But denying that kept me stuck. It kept me repeating patterns. It kept me living in yesterday instead of building today.

The moment I committed to honesty, especially with myself, everything began to shift.

Owning Your Story Changes Its Power

Taking responsibility is not about blame. It is about freedom.

When I stopped pointing outward and started looking inward, I began to see patterns. Choices I had made. People I had allowed into my life. Boundaries I had not set. Truths I had ignored.

At first, that realization was uncomfortable. I had built an identity around being wronged. Letting go of that identity felt like losing something familiar.

But what I gained was far greater.

Clarity. Growth. Self respect. And the ability to change.

Once you see your patterns, you can interrupt them.

And that is where transformation begins.

The Past Only Has The Power You Give It

I used to carry shame, anger, and frustration everywhere I went. Those emotions colored how I saw myself and others. They influenced my reactions. They shaped my expectations.

But when I started living more honestly, those emotions began to loosen their grip.

I learned to ask different questions:

What did I learn?
What would I do differently now?
What boundaries do I need moving forward?
What forgiveness is necessary for peace?

Sometimes forgiveness was for someone else. Sometimes it was for myself. Often it was both.

And slowly, the past stopped feeling like a prison and started feeling like a teacher.

Patterns Become Signals Instead Of Traps

One of the biggest gifts of reflection is recognition.

When you understand your patterns, familiar situations begin to feel different. You notice warning signs earlier. You pause before reacting. You make decisions with awareness instead of autopilot.

Early on, I often did not know what the “right” response was. So I learned something important.

Pause.

Life is not a game show. There is no prize for responding fastest. Taking time to think, to ask questions, or to seek guidance is not weakness. It is wisdom.

And with practice, better decisions become more natural.

That is growth in action.

Changing Today Rewrites Tomorrow

You cannot rewrite the past, but you absolutely shape what comes next.

When we act with honesty, integrity, and awareness, the weight of past mistakes lightens. They stop defining us because we are no longer repeating them.

We admit when we are wrong. We make amends when possible. We learn. We adjust. We grow.

And suddenly, the past becomes context instead of identity.

That shift is powerful.

It creates space for self respect. Confidence. Peace.

Healing Requires Compassion Too

Responsibility does not mean harsh self judgment.

Some experiences truly were outside our control. Some situations were painful, unfair, or confusing. Acknowledging that is part of healing too.

The key is balance.

Accountability where we had choice. Compassion where we did not.

Both are necessary for emotional freedom.

And both allow us to move forward without dragging the past behind us.

You Are Allowed To Outgrow Who You Were

This might be the most important part.

You are not required to remain the person you were during your hardest seasons.

Growth means evolution. Awareness means change. Healing means forward movement.

Your past informs you.

It does not imprison you.

And every day offers a chance to choose differently.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

S: When you think about your past, what emotions come up most strongly?

L: What patterns or choices do you now recognize that you could approach differently today?

A: Where might forgiveness, either for yourself or someone else, create more peace in your life?

Y: What is one small action you can take today that reflects who you are becoming rather than who you were?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How have you learned to reinterpret your past so it supports your growth instead of holding you back?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who needs permission to move forward without being defined by yesterday, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Sometimes All Someone Wants To Hear Is, I’m Sorry

There are moments when nothing can be done—when there’s no way to fix a situation or make it better. And in those moments, sometimes all someone wants to hear is, “I’m sorry.” Even if we’re not responsible for what happened, acknowledging someone’s experience can mean the world.

A Simple Yet Powerful Gesture

I think back to my life before walking this path, and how much it would have meant to hear those words. The power of a heartfelt “I’m sorry” is incredible. It connects us, makes us feel seen and valued, and reminds us that our feelings matter.

I remember sharing my story with someone I trusted, and when she gently put her hand on mine and said, “I’m sorry,” it felt like a wave of warmth washed over me. She had nothing to do with the events that led me to that moment, but her simple words were the first real validation of my pain and struggle. It helped me exhale. It helped me start to let go.

Owning Our Part

When we do have something to apologize for, those words carry even more weight. Saying “I’m sorry” for something we did—whether intentionally or not—shows strength. It honors the other person and ourselves. It’s not about weakness or surrender, but about standing in our truth and striving to be better.

As SLAYERS, we’re constantly working on ourselves. Yes, we’ll slip. Yes, we’ll make mistakes. But admitting our wrongs and saying, “I’m sorry,” can mend broken relationships and open the door to healing.

A Path to Healing

There’s magic in those words. “I’m sorry” can be the start of a new chapter, whether it’s in a relationship scarred by past pain or for someone still carrying the weight of old wounds. Sometimes, the apology won’t come from the person who caused the hurt. But when it comes from someone who cares—someone willing to listen and extend compassion—it still holds power. It’s a first step toward healing.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you struggle to say “I’m sorry”? Why?

  • What do you think it says about you if you apologize?

  • Have you ever seen “I’m sorry” as a sign of weakness? Can you shift that perspective?

  • Do you appreciate hearing someone say they’re sorry, even if they weren’t directly involved? How does it make you feel?

  • Do you offer that same compassion to others when they’re hurting? Why or why not?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
When was the last time you heard—or said—“I’m sorry”? How did it change the moment?
Share your thoughts in the comments. Let’s build each other up with honesty and compassion.

And if you know someone who’s been holding on to pain, send this to them.
Sometimes, just hearing those words is a step toward healing.

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.