Personal Growth

Perseverance

I used to think perseverance was only for certain things—like career goals or material achievements. But when it came to my mental health, I was quick to throw in the towel. The moment a setback occurred, my inner critic would scream, “Why bother? You’ll fail anyway.” And too often, I listened.

But I learned something: true perseverance—the kind that transforms you—isn’t about pushing through only when it’s easy or convenient. It’s about showing up for yourself, even when the path is rocky, the finish line invisible, and the negative voices loud.

There were times I clung to perseverance for external wins but abandoned it for the internal work—the work that mattered most. I believed the lie that I didn’t deserve good things. But when I finally committed to my recovery, I discovered that same perseverance, channeled into my healing, could produce powerful results.

The Power of Persistence

When you ask most successful people their secret, they’ll likely tell you: perseverance. They didn’t give up. It seems like common sense, but how often do we stop just shy of the finish line? Or give up before the miracle happens?

There’s no published timeline for how long we have to keep going without seeing results. That’s where many falter. But if you can’t stop thinking about it—if giving up feels like losing a part of yourself—then keep going. That’s your sign.

Sometimes, perseverance isn’t about bull-headedness. It’s about flexibility, too. If a particular path isn’t working, the lesson might be to pivot. But often, it’s about staying the course—especially when it comes to your own well-being.

Lessons Learned

Before recovery, I used perseverance to chase things that didn’t nourish me. Now, I channel it into what matters: my mental, emotional, and spiritual health. It’s not easy. There are still days when the voices of doubt and fear creep in. But I’ve learned to keep going, to fight for the life I want, and to trust that even the smallest steps count.

The finish line may be hidden, but it’s there. The only way to see it is to keep moving forward. Don’t let the setbacks define you. Let your perseverance become your strength.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Would you say you have perseverance?

  • Write out some examples of when you’ve shown perseverance. What was the result?

  • Do you consistently have perseverance, or only in certain areas?

  • What stops you from persevering?

  • When have you failed to persevere? Why?

  • What can you do to cultivate perseverance in those areas?

  • What challenges do you face in maintaining perseverance?

  • How can you channel it into things that nurture your growth and healing?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one thing in your life you’re determined to keep going for, no matter what?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s lift each other up.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to stay the course, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that perseverance is worth it.

Name Your Fear

I spent years in the dark, without realizing that fear was driving nearly every decision I made.
I was afraid of not getting what I wanted.
Afraid of losing what I had.
Afraid of not being good enough.
Afraid of what others thought of me.
Afraid you already knew what a horrible person I was.

Fear whispered lies and distortions at every turn, clouding my judgment and leading me down a spiral of bad decisions. And once those decisions were made, fear crept in again—this time afraid I’d be found out for them.
I lived in constant irritability and discontent.

The Fog of Fear

Fear doesn’t always show up loud and obvious.
It disguises itself.
It justifies itself.
For me, it was like a low-lying fog—ever-present, making it hard to see the next steps.

When I committed to getting honest with myself, I began to confront my fears. At first, I wouldn’t have said I was afraid of much—except the trajectory of my disease. I knew if I didn’t face my fears, they’d consume me.
But naming them? That took time, and guidance from others.

I had to learn to trust—both the people supporting me and myself. When you live in fear, trust evaporates. You’re stuck in fight-or-flight, always waiting for the next trauma.
Learning to live with honesty and peace was a new concept.

Step by Step

I slowed down.
I started asking myself: What’s the next right thing?
And when I didn’t know, I asked for help.
I had to push through the fear of asking.

As I peeled back the layers of myself, the fears began to reveal themselves—each one an opportunity to heal. Slowly, those fears fell away, replaced by better decisions and a clearer sense of the life I wanted to create.

Letting go of fear also allowed me to share my true self without being paralyzed by the thought of being judged or “not enough.”
The same vulnerabilities that once kept me isolated became the bridges that connected me with others—and helped others still stuck in fear.

What Are You Really Afraid Of?

Right now, many of us live with fear—understandably so, given the world’s circumstances.
But how many of those fears are real?
How many are imagined?
How many can we actually name?

You can’t let go of fear you won’t name.

Find it.
Flush it out.
Let it go.

Because you deserve a life built on freedom, not fear.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Would you say you are someone who lives in fear?

  • What are you afraid of?

  • Do you know what you are afraid of?

  • Which fears are real, and which are imagined?

  • Where do those fears come from?

  • What steps can you take to let go of imagined fears?

  • How can you approach real fears in your life with clarity and strength?

  • How does holding onto fear help or hurt you?

Remember:
Some fear is healthy. It keeps us safe.
But most fear just holds us back.
Look at your fears today, Slayer.
Figure out why you’re holding on.
Don’t let fear rob you of your best life.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one fear you’re ready to name—and take a step toward letting go of today?
Share your thoughts in the comments. Let’s support each other’s journeys.

And if you know someone who might be feeling stuck in fear, send this to them.
Sometimes, naming a fear is the first step to reclaiming your power.

Was Blind But Now I See

I was listening to Andrea Bocelli’s moving performance of “Amazing Grace” recently at the Duomo cathedral in Milan. As I heard the words “I was blind but now I see,” it struck me deeply. I hadn’t really thought about that line before—just the song as a whole and what it meant—but it reminded me of the years I spent struggling.

There was a time when I didn’t believe I was worth saving, a time when I had lost hope. Back then, I was blind. I was blind to myself, my life, my behavior—thinking I was someone I wasn’t, living a life I wasn’t. I saw only what my mind told me to see, not the truth of what was really going on.

I was living in the darkness of my mind, while the real me—the person I truly was—slowly slipped away under the layers of garbage I kept piling on.

Seeing the Truth for What It Is

We tend to see what we want to see, don’t we? Whether it’s good or bad, we often paint ourselves a picture we choose to believe. Some of us hide behind a picture-perfect fantasy; others choose to cloak everything in doom and gloom.

But the truth is, life usually falls somewhere in the middle—often not as extreme as our minds want us to believe.

I used to use distractions and numbing behaviors to avoid the truth. Even during this time of isolation and home seclusion, those distractions are still available. Facing the truth is uncomfortable. It’s so much easier to stay behind the veil of the story we tell ourselves.

For me, the truth was standing right in front of me, and I could no longer hide. It took realizing that continuing to hide from my truth would ultimately destroy me. When I finally sought help, that veil was lifted. And while seeing the truth was painful at first, it was also freeing.

Freedom in Truth

The truth was my chance to make changes. To see the mess my life had become. To recognize the lies my head had been feeding me.

At first, it was easier to hide and live in a world of my own choosing, but things were never going to get better in that place. I was lucky to have seen the truth when I did, and that I was still able to do something about it. Not everyone gets that chance.

When we are willing to face the truth, we give ourselves the opportunity to change what we don’t like. Or at least, to improve things. Truth gives us clarity to make better choices and to see how those choices affect not just us, but those around us.

It’s within truth that real change is possible. It’s where we find the opportunity to become someone we are proud of—someone who lives a life we want, not one we’re pretending to live.

So take off the glasses that may be clouding your vision. Look at your life for what it truly is, and use that vision to build a life you are proud to see.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you typically see things as they are, or do you see them as you choose to see them?

  • What do you see? Do you like it?

  • How much of what you don’t like is a result of your own choices?

  • What can you change to improve what you see?

  • Write an example of something you chose not to see and how it became a bigger problem.

  • Do you tend to overlook the good in your life? Why?

  • What good can you see if you look for it? How can you find and create more good?

When we face our truth, we gain clarity. And clarity gives us the opportunity to make changes—big or small—that can lead us to a better life.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What truth are you ready to face in your life?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s support each other in seeing things clearly.

And if you know someone who might need this reminder, send it to them. Sometimes, the first step is simply acknowledging we’re ready to see.

Sometimes It’s Not The Light That Guides Us But The Darkness That Pushes Us

We often hear that we should follow the light—look for hope, positivity, and healing to guide us forward. But what happens when the light feels too far away? When we can’t see it, let alone follow it?

There was a time in my life when the darkness wasn’t just around me—it was in me. It wrapped itself around everything I was and everything I believed about myself. It suffocated every flicker of light I had left. And the scariest part? I accepted it. I thought I belonged there. I convinced myself that if I just waited long enough, it would somehow resolve itself. But darkness doesn’t heal. It deepens—until you forget what light even looks like.

The Fear That Became Fuel

I’ve shared before that it was someone else’s story—someone brave enough to speak their truth—that gave me a tiny sliver of hope. Just enough to cling to. That story became my lifeline. I wasn’t ready to see my own light yet, but the fear of sinking further into that darkness became the fuel I needed to ask for help.

Sometimes, it’s not inspiration that gets us moving. It’s desperation. It’s the pain of staying the same. It’s the crushing weight of knowing if you don’t do something—anything—you might not make it. That fear can become a gift. A push. A nudge in a direction you’re not sure of, but one that takes you somewhere new. Somewhere better.

I often talk about seeking the light. But I know all too well that sometimes, the light isn’t what gets us started. Sometimes, the darkness is what pushes us toward the light we didn’t even know we were searching for.

The Lies Darkness Tells Us

Darkness is cunning. It doesn’t always show up like the monster under the bed. Sometimes it sounds like safety. Familiarity. Comfort. It whispers, “Stay here. At least here you know what to expect.”

But here’s the truth: darkness may feel familiar, but it is not safe. It convinces us we’re unworthy. It tells us we’re too broken to be seen, too far gone to be helped. It keeps us stuck with stories we’ve outgrown but don’t know how to let go of.

I used to think there was only one “right” way to heal. One perfect path forward. But that belief only kept me stuck longer. It wasn’t until I realized that healing isn’t a straight line—and it doesn’t always begin with light—that I gave myself permission to find my own way. Whether it’s a flicker of inspiration or a fire lit by fear, what matters is that you start.

The Gift of Desperation

They say necessity is the mother of invention, but I believe desperation is the spark of transformation. For me, it was the fear of staying in that deep, dark place that finally opened me up to something new. I call it the gift of desperation.

When what I was doing stopped working, I had to be willing to try something different—even if it scared me. Especially if it scared me. And that willingness, however small, cracked the door open to a new path.

It didn’t look like anyone else’s journey. It was messy. Uneven. Sometimes I was crawling more than walking. But I kept moving. I kept showing up. And little by little, I found my way out of the dark and into something resembling light.

Your Path Doesn’t Have to Look Like Anyone Else’s

There’s no single right way to heal, grow, or change. No template. No “should.” The truth is, we all have different catalysts. For some, it’s hope. For others, it’s heartbreak. For many of us, it’s both.

What matters is direction. If you’re moving toward a better version of yourself—whether by chasing the light or running from the dark—you’re on the right path.

The key is to remain open. To trust that no matter what’s behind you, what’s ahead can be better. And that willingness to shift—even if just a little—can create space for something powerful.

You Don’t Have to Stay Where You Started

If you’re in a dark place right now, I want you to know: you don’t have to stay there. The fact that you’re reading this means there’s still a flicker of light in you. Hold onto that. Feed it.

And if you can’t find your own light just yet, borrow someone else’s. Let their story, their voice, or even their presence guide you until you find your own strength. Sometimes the push of darkness is the very thing that leads us to the path we were meant to walk.

Always look for the light. But if you can’t see it yet, let the darkness give you the push you need for a better view.

SLAY Reflection

Take a moment to reflect, SLAYER:

  • S: Do you make changes by moving toward the light—or away from the darkness?

  • L: What moments in your life were driven by fear, and where did they lead you?

  • A: How can you reframe your current struggles as a push toward something better?

  • Y: What small shift can you make today to move forward, even if the light isn’t visible yet?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever been pushed by darkness toward a better place?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

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

Hope

Hope saved my life.
Not overnight, not all at once. But slowly—almost imperceptibly—it pulled me forward when I couldn’t move on my own.

It didn’t start with a grand epiphany or a lightning-bolt moment. It started with a story. Someone shared their truth with me, and in that moment, something shifted. Their honesty lit a tiny spark in the darkness I was drowning in. That spark became a lifeline.

The hope I felt wasn’t loud or bright. It was dim, shaky, barely enough to hold on to. But it was enough. Enough to make me take action. Enough to give me the belief—however fragile—that things could get better.

The Patience of Hope

We live in a world that worships instant results. We want everything now—answers, change, healing, clarity. But hope doesn’t follow a schedule. It’s not something we can demand.

Hope is about trust. Trusting that something better is possible, even when we can’t see it. It asks us to let go of the timeline we think we’re entitled to and surrender to the process of becoming.

And that’s hard. Really hard.

But hope and patience are deeply connected. When we trust in hope, we create space. We soften our grip. We stop trying to control outcomes that were never ours to dictate. Hope is not about sitting still—it’s about steady movement, one small act of faith at a time, guided by the belief that this season will not last forever.

Letting Hope Lead

There’s a difference between wishing and hoping. Wishing is passive. It keeps us stuck. Hope, on the other hand, moves us. It opens our hearts, sharpens our focus, and lifts our heads. It whispers, “Keep going.”

We’re not always asked to see the full path. Often, we’re only given the next step. Hope is what fuels us to take it. It teaches us that we don’t need to have everything figured out in order to move forward—we just need to be willing.

When we push and force, we strangle the very thing we’re hoping for. Life flows in ways we can’t always see. Hope allows us to be guided by something greater than our expectations. It gives us the strength to walk the path, even when we don’t know where it’s leading.

The Gift That Grows

Hope expands when it’s shared. That’s part of why I started this blog—to pass on the spark that was once passed on to me.

You never know who needs your light. You never know who’s one story, one smile, one reminder away from holding on just a little longer. Sharing hope doesn’t require answers or fixing someone’s pain. It only asks that we show up and say, “I see you. I’ve been there. And it can get better.”

If I hadn’t been given that kind of hope years ago, I don’t know where I’d be. But because someone shared it with me, I get to be here now, sharing it with you. That’s the cycle of healing. That’s the quiet power of hope.

Hold On to Hope—And Pass It On

Whatever you’re facing today, I want you to know that hope is still available. Even if it feels out of reach, even if all you can manage is a single breath of belief—start there.

Hope doesn’t require certainty. Just willingness. Just a little bit of faith that things can change. And when you feel it rise, even in the smallest way, share it. Hope grows when it’s given.

We’re all walking through something. We’re all holding pieces of each other’s healing. And we are never alone in that.

SLAY Reflection

Take some time to reflect and reconnect with hope:

  • S: Do you feel hopeful right now? If not, what might be dimming your light?

  • L: Who has shared hope with you in the past, and how did it impact your journey?

  • A: Have you shared hope with someone else? What did that look like, and how did it feel?

  • Y: What’s one small way you can nurture or share hope today, even if it’s just with yourself?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What does hope look like in your life right now?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to hold on, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Self-Honesty

If we want to grow—really grow—there’s one non-negotiable step we can’t skip: self-honesty.
Not filtered. Not justified. Not softened for comfort. Just the raw, unfiltered truth.

For a long time, I didn’t even realize I wasn’t being honest with myself. I had an explanation for everything—why I did what I did, why it wasn’t my fault, and why I was still the one who got hurt. I wasn’t lying, I told myself—I was surviving. I genuinely believed that. I wasn’t aware of how deep my self-deception ran.

But here’s the thing about dishonesty: even when we fool others, we can never fully fool ourselves. Deep down, we know. And that knowing creates pain—a pain that grows louder the longer we run from it.

When the Lies Catch Up

Looking back, I realize how much effort it took to keep up the act. I was always spinning, justifying, defending, and denying. I wasn’t just lying to others—I was lying to myself. And even though I appeared to have control, my life was unraveling beneath the surface.

I had a story for everything, and in most versions, I was the victim. It worked—until it didn’t. Eventually, the weight of my own dishonesty caught up with me. I felt like I was being swallowed by guilt and shame, and I had to numb myself just to function.

But that small, persistent voice—the one that wouldn’t stay quiet—kept whispering the truth: You know better. You were meant for more than this.
And as much as I tried to silence that voice, it was the only part of me still fighting for the life I deserved.

The Moment That Changed Everything

The turning point came when I couldn’t run anymore. I hit a wall—a moment where the lies I’d told myself stopped working.

I was tired. I was broken. And for the first time, I was honest.

Not just with others, but with myself.

I admitted everything. The damage I’d caused. The pain I’d tried to outrun. The truth I’d buried under ego and fear. I reached out to the people I’d hurt. I owned my choices. And I made a plan to get help.

It wasn’t easy. But it was freeing.

Because the moment I took responsibility was the moment I took my power back.

The Truth Will Set You Free (But First, It’ll Break You Open)

Self-honesty is messy. It means looking at the parts of yourself you’ve tried to ignore. It means taking off the mask and seeing who’s really underneath.

And for many of us, it means accepting that we were the ones standing in our own way. That we made choices that hurt not just others, but ourselves.

But that’s also where freedom begins.

Once I saw how much of my pain was self-inflicted, I realized something powerful: If I created this mess, I can also create something better.

That truth was hard to swallow, but it was also hopeful. Because it meant I didn’t have to wait for anyone else to change. It was up to me. I had the power to break the cycle—and build something real in its place.

Self-Honesty is Self-Love in Action

We talk a lot about self-love. But the most loving thing we can do for ourselves is tell the truth—even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.

Self-honesty isn’t about beating ourselves up. It’s about calling ourselves in, not calling ourselves out. It’s saying, “I know you made choices you’re not proud of. But you don’t have to keep living that story. You can change.”

And that’s what I did. I took ownership. I made amends. I learned from my mistakes. And I committed to a new way of living—one built on truth, not performance.

Was it easy? No.
Was it worth it? Absolutely.

You Can’t Heal What You Won’t Face

If something in your life isn’t working, ask yourself this:
Am I being honest about what’s really going on?

Not just honest with others. Honest with yourself.

Because if we want to live a life that feels good, not just good enough, we have to face the hard truths. We have to stop spinning stories and start taking responsibility.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s humbling. But it’s also the beginning of real change.

The life you want? It starts with telling the truth. To yourself. For yourself.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s reflect, SLAYER:

  • S: Where in your life have you been avoiding the truth?

  • L: What patterns or habits have you justified, even when you knew they were harmful?

  • A: What’s one honest conversation you need to have—with yourself or someone else?

  • Y: What would living in full self-honesty look like for you, and what would it free you to become?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Where has self-honesty transformed your life—or where do you feel called to be more honest today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to face the truth, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

When Your Past Comes Back

I recently got a phone call from someone in the same industry as me—a person I’ve known for years. They called to say some kind things that truly meant a lot. But what triggered this call was a conversation they’d had with someone I used to consider a close friend.

This former friend had abruptly ended our friendship years ago when I confronted them about behavior I found troubling—putting ambition and personal gain above authentic relationships. Fast forward to now, and they were using my name to connect with people in the industry, as if we were still close. This wasn’t the first time I’d learned they were leveraging my name, but hearing it again stirred something deep inside me.

The Stirring of Old Wounds

At first, I was stunned. Then, the anger bubbled up. How dare they use my name after cutting me off? They had no right. But as my hands trembled and my mind raced with all the things I could say, I stopped.

I took a deep breath.

Here’s the truth: calling them out, lashing back—it wouldn’t change the past or make me feel better. In fact, it would likely pull me into a spiral of frustration and negativity. Instead, I simply told the caller the truth—that this person was no longer a part of my life. I kept it factual, free of venom. I trusted the person on the other end to connect the dots.

Choosing Light Over Darkness

Not long after, I was on a video call where this same person, my former friend, appeared. They made a point to say they were there because of me. I smiled tightly and said nothing. I realized then: the truth would reveal itself in time. It always does.

What I’ve learned on this path is to stay true to myself. It’s not about winning an argument or proving someone wrong. It’s about preserving my peace, keeping my side of the street clean, and focusing on what brings me light and joy.

Letting Go of the Scorecard

Life isn’t about keeping score. People will hurt us, sometimes deeply. But carrying those grievances around only weighs us down. Every time we dwell on them, we feed the darkness instead of the light.

I’ve learned that when someone tries to pull me back into old wounds, I can choose to let go. I can choose to focus on what fills me with light. I can refuse to be dragged down a path that dims my soul.

Moving Forward with Strength

We all face moments when our past rears its head. The question is: how do we respond? Do we pick up the bitterness, or do we lay it down and walk away?

I choose to walk forward, with grace, resilience, and an unwavering commitment to my own well-being.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Have you ever confronted someone about an old hurt? How did that feel?

  • If you felt relief at the moment, did it last? Or did it leave you feeling hollow?

  • Do you find it hard to let things go, or do you feel pulled to dive back in?

  • How do you feel after going back—empowered or depleted?

  • Can you shift your focus to the present and release the chains of the past?

The past is a weight we don’t need to carry. Set yourself free today.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve chosen light over darkness in your past?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to let go of an old hurt, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a gentle reminder: we have the power to move forward.

Accept The Gifts

For many of us, it isn’t easy asking for help or accepting it. During this time, it’s near impossible to do everything on our own. Life, very often, presents opportunities for us to not only humble ourselves and ask for what we need but also offers a chance for someone else to step up and be of service.

I’ve written before that it’s okay to ask for help. In fact, when we do, most of the time, it not only helps us but also helps the person we ask. It’s funny how that works. Just like when we need to talk to someone about what we’re going through—the person we open up to usually gets just as much out of the conversation as we do.

Releasing the Armor

When I was living in the dark, it was very difficult for me to ask for help. I thought it was a sign of weakness. I was proud to push through on my own, no matter what the collateral damage was. There were times when I’d gotten myself into situations I couldn’t get out of and was forced to ask for help, and I’d beat myself up for doing it. Or, in my twisted thinking, I’d justify it—I thought the help was owed to me because of past grievances, some imagined, some real.

Eventually, I realized that asking for help was not only necessary but an act of courage. That first reach-out was terrifying, but it was also a huge relief. It was the moment I took my power back.

Practicing the Art of Acceptance

Learning to continue asking for help and accepting the gifts that came my way was its own journey. For me, finding acceptance in myself and learning to love myself was the key to accepting gifts from others—and from life. I’m not just talking about physical gifts. Gifts come in many forms: a smile, a warm hug, a kind word.

I had to learn to believe I was worthy of receiving these gifts. I had to trust there wasn’t an ulterior motive and that these gestures were given from the heart. It took time, but the more I learned to simply say thank you and accept them, the easier it became. And the more I gave of myself—my time, my kindness—the more I understood the power of these simple gestures.

Don’t Steal the Gift

When we refuse a gift or brush off a compliment, we’re telling the giver they’re wrong. That doesn’t feel good to anyone. To simply say thank you and leave it at that is a practice of grace. It allows us to learn to accept good things and allows the other person the experience of giving.

Right now, we can all benefit from both giving and receiving. But it’s essential for our spirit and self-worth to practice receiving with gratitude. When we do, it fills our hearts, shows us we’re worthy of kindness, and reminds us we deserve good things.

Don’t let pride or discomfort block these moments. Nothing happens by mistake. There’s a reason for the giver and the receiver, and it may be bigger than either of you can imagine. If you feel compelled to give, do it. If you’re the lucky recipient, smile, say thank you, and know you were chosen for a reason.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Do you have a hard time accepting gifts? Why do you think that is?

  • What was the last gift you accepted? How did it make you feel?

  • What was the last gift you gave? How did that make you feel?

  • Can you see how important it is to accept the gifts that come your way?

  • Why do you feel others deserve gifts more than you do? Why do you think you’re not worthy?

You are worthy, SLAYER. Gifts come into our lives to show us something, to lift our spirits, or to bring us closer together. Trust that the gifts coming your way are there for a reason. Say thank you, and feel it in your heart.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one gift—big or small—you’ve accepted lately, and how did it make you feel?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s support each other.

And if you know someone who needs this reminder, send this to them.
Sometimes, a simple gesture says: “You’re worthy of good things, too.”

It’s OK Not To Be OK

After a challenging week, I realized I needed a mental health break. And maybe you do too. So, here’s something I want to share with you again: It’s OK not to be OK.

Living Behind a Mask

For most of my life, I was an expert at pretending everything was fine. I stuffed down my feelings and convinced myself that showing emotion was a sign of weakness. Even when I was falling apart inside, I smiled and put on a brave face. I believed that if I pretended everything was OK, no one would ask questions. And I was right—until I couldn’t pretend anymore.

I surrounded myself with people who were emotionally unavailable, people who wouldn’t ask too many questions. If someone did get too close, I’d quietly phase them out. I believed that admitting I wasn’t OK would push people away. What I didn’t realize was that hiding my truth was isolating me—and killing me from the inside out.

The Moment of Truth

Everything changed the day I finally reached out for help. In a place of desperation, I said the words that had been trapped inside me for so long: “I’m not OK, and I don’t know what to do about it.” To my surprise, the world didn’t fall apart. Instead, it opened up. People I expected to retreat actually drew closer. They offered support, love, and understanding. My honesty became a bridge—connecting me to others who were also struggling, or who had found their way to the other side.

That moment wasn’t just about seeking help. It was about reclaiming my power. Speaking my truth loosened the shame that had gripped me for so long. Instead of feeling weak, I felt strong. Instead of feeling alone, I felt connected. And for the first time in a long time, I felt hope.

The Strength in Vulnerability

No one is OK all the time. No one. Yet we hold ourselves to impossible standards, expecting to be strong, unshaken, and fine—even when we’re anything but. When we keep our struggles hidden, they grow heavier. They fester. They become harder to carry.

Sharing your truth doesn’t make you weak. It makes you brave. It doesn’t push people away—it invites them in. And it creates space for healing, connection, and community. I know because I’ve lived it.

A New Kind of Courage

I’m not saying it’s easy. The first time I admitted I wasn’t OK, it was terrifying. But with each honest conversation, it got easier. Over time, I discovered that vulnerability was not my enemy—it was my greatest ally. It connected me to a SLAYER army of people who understood, who had been there, and who were ready to stand beside me as I fought my way back to the light.

You’re Not Alone

If you’re reading this and feeling like you’re the only one struggling—hear me now: You’re not alone. We all have days when we’re not OK. And when those days come, it’s not a failure. It’s a sign to reach out, to lean on others, and to remember that you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.

Speak your truth. Share your struggle. And know that in doing so, you’re taking the first step toward healing.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • When you’re not OK, do you share that with others?

  • If you don’t, why not? What are you afraid of?

  • Are these fears based on facts, or imagined outcomes?

  • Who in your life do you trust to share your truth with?

  • Think of a time when you shared your truth. How did it feel?

  • If you’ve never shared, I challenge you to start today.

  • Remember: It’s OK not to be OK, and just saying so gets you on the road to recovery. Take that step, SLAYER.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What has helped you feel more comfortable sharing when you’re not OK?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who needs this reminder, send this to them.
Sometimes, knowing they’re not alone makes all the difference.

Adversity Shows Us Who We Are

In my journey, I’ve been through deep adversity before, and it has always shown me who I am. I haven’t always liked what I’ve seen, but I’ve come to understand that I have the power to change it.

Facing Ourselves

In our daily lives, we often fill our days with busyness—things that distract us from what we may not want to face about ourselves: our behaviors, our patterns, and the places we choose to live emotionally day after day. It’s easy to focus on other people, on places and things, and avoid the inner work that requires honesty. For much of my adult life, I did exactly that. I numbed, distracted, and ran from myself until I hit an emotional and spiritual bottom. Suddenly, I had no choice but to face who I truly was.

It wasn’t easy. I had spent so long running from my feelings and stuffing down the emotions I didn’t want to admit even existed. Looking at myself felt nearly impossible. But adversity leaves us with two choices: give up and sink deeper or choose to fight for our lives.

Surrender Is Strength

The adversity I faced with my mental health forced me into a corner. To survive, I had to surrender and ask for help. The word surrender used to feel like weakness to me. I thought it was something only people who weren’t strong did. But the moment I let go, the moment I admitted I couldn’t do it alone, was the strongest decision I ever made.

That act of surrender allowed me to take my power back. It was only the start—I had to continue to be honest about myself and my past. That honesty wasn’t always easy, but if I was ever going to build a life worth living, I had to stop hiding behind lies and half-truths. I had to commit to showing up for myself fully.

Looking in the Mirror

When the curtain is pulled back and all you’re left with is a mirror, there is no moment more humbling. I stood there and saw hate, sadness, and defeat staring back at me. But I was encouraged to find even one small good thing, one spark of light. It was hard at first, but even the smallest bit of goodness was a starting point. From there, I could begin to rebuild.

The journey from self-hatred to self-love wasn’t easy, but every step, every tear, and every hard truth was worth it. Today, I can look in the mirror with compassion and gratitude for how far I’ve come.

Adversity in the Present

Today, we face a new kind of adversity. It’s one that isn’t of our own making, but it affects every part of our lives. As we’re forced to slow down, to pause the busyness we’ve come to rely on, this adversity is holding up a mirror once again.

This time offers us the opportunity to see who we truly are. If we don’t like what we see, life is giving us a chance to change. Maybe that’s one of the greatest lessons from this pause: a reset, an opportunity to return to ourselves and realign with what really matters.

This is a time to shine—not only for ourselves but for those who need our light. It’s an invitation to reflect, to reset, and to emerge stronger and more grounded.

Are you liking what adversity is showing you? If not, it’s time to get to work.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY

  • Have there been times in your life where adversity has shown you who you are?

  • Did you like what you saw?

  • What did you do to change that?

  • During this time of adversity, are you liking what you’re seeing?

  • What don’t you like? What can you do to change it?

  • Reflect and make some changes. Love yourself through them, and remember: we’re all walking through this together.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What has adversity shown you about yourself, and how are you working to change or embrace that?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s navigating their own adversity, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.