self awareness

No One Knows What Happens Quietly

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things we don’t see. The pain people carry. The stories they don’t share. The struggles that never make it to the surface.

Because the truth is, no one knows what happens quietly.

Behind the Brave Face

When I was living in the dark, I wore a mask. Every day, I put on a brave face and told the world I was fine—even though I was anything but.

It became a reflex. A way to survive.

And I know I’m not alone in that.

We live in a world where “I’m fine” is often code for “I’m barely holding it together.” And it’s easy to miss the signs. It’s easy to take people at face value and forget that everyone is carrying something.

So now, when I interact with someone—whether it’s a friend, a stranger, or the person ringing up my groceries—I try to remember that I have no idea what they might be going through. I might be stepping into their quiet moment.

Hitting the Pause Button

I’m not perfect at this. There are days when someone’s energy or reaction triggers me, too. But I try to pause. To not react out of my own pain or assumptions.

Because the truth is, sometimes someone’s anger, withdrawal, or silence isn’t about me at all. It’s a symptom of something deeper. Something they haven’t said. Something they feel they can’t say.

That’s why compassion matters.

That’s why curiosity matters.

And that’s why I try to lead with both.

When We Stay Quiet, We Suffer Alone

One of the most heartbreaking things I’ve learned is this:

When people don’t feel safe enough to speak their truth, they often believe they have no way out.

Not just emotionally—but tragically, sometimes, physically.

When we silence our pain—out of fear, shame, or the belief that no one will understand—it festers. And in that silence, so many people feel hopeless, isolated, and unseen.

They start to believe the lie that their story is too much… that they are too much.

And when there’s no outlet, no connection, no safe space to speak from the darkness,
some believe the only way to end their pain is to end everything.

That’s why sharing your story matters.

Because when you let someone see your truth, you give them permission to share theirs.
You remind them that connection is still possible.
That healing isn’t something they have to do alone.

Your vulnerability can be someone else’s lifeline.

And their story might just help you, too.

Be the Safe Space

The world can be loud. But people’s pain often isn’t.

So as you move through your day, try to remember:

You may be stepping into someone’s quiet.
Their unspoken grief. Their silent struggle. The story they haven’t found words for yet.

Be gentle.
Be kind.
Be the space where it’s safe to take the mask off.

And if you’re the one wearing the mask today—I see you. I’ve been you. And you are not alone.

SLAY on.

SLAY OF THE DAY: Reflect & Rise

  • Have you ever told someone you were “fine” when you weren’t?
  • What were you really feeling underneath?
  • Do you assume the worst when someone reacts strongly—or do you pause to consider what they might be carrying?
  • How can you be more compassionate to the quiet struggles of others?
  • What would it take for you to speak honestly about your own?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What helps you stay compassionate when you don’t know someone’s full story?
Share your thoughts in the comments. Let’s support each other with softness.

And if you know someone who’s struggling in silence, send this to them.
Sometimes, a small act of kindness says: “I see you.”

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.

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.

Be Informed, Not Consumed

When the world feels uncertain, it’s natural to search for answers. We scroll, click, refresh—hoping that one more headline will bring us peace. But more often than not, the opposite happens. We become consumed.

In times of crisis, fear drives us to seek control. And in today’s world, control often looks like consuming as much information as possible. With news available 24/7, alerts pinging constantly, and social media spinning every story into a wildfire—it’s easy to lose ourselves in the noise.

Staying informed is important. But there’s a difference between being informed and being overwhelmed. There’s a line where knowledge becomes anxiety, and awareness turns into obsession. If we want to stay grounded, present, and well—we have to learn how to navigate that line.

When the Need to Know Becomes Too Much

Before I began this journey of healing and self-awareness, I didn’t know where that line was. When national tragedies or global emergencies happened, I’d get hooked. I’d sit in front of the news for hours, scroll endlessly, and tell myself, “I just need to stay updated.”

But the more I consumed, the more I spiraled. I wasn’t calming my fear—I was feeding it.

And here’s what I’ve learned: when I don’t check in with myself, when I don’t have balance in my day, my mind will find the darkness. If I give my energy to fear-based media or worst-case-scenario stories, that part of my brain that wants to spiral takes over—and fast.

We See What We Seek

It’s true: we find what we’re looking for.

If we’re looking for fear, we’ll find fear. If we’re looking for anger, grief, chaos—we’ll find it, and then some. But if we make the choice to seek calm, hope, and positivity, we’ll start to notice those stories too.

Our perception is shaped by what we consume and who we surround ourselves with. The news we follow, the conversations we engage in, the content we share—it all matters. It all shapes our internal world.

That’s why I’ve learned to set boundaries. I limit the content I consume. I check my sources. And then, I require balance: something that feeds my mind, something that fuels my body, and something that lifts my spirit.

When I follow that formula, I feel grounded. I feel like me.

Information Is a Tool—Not a Lifestyle

In this 24-hour news cycle, information never stops. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep consuming it nonstop.

Just because it’s available doesn’t mean it’s healthy. We don’t need to know everything in real-time. We don’t have to refresh the feed to feel in control. Sometimes, turning the news off is the healthiest decision we can make.

Information should support you—not suffocate you. It’s meant to help you make informed decisions for your life and your family. But it should never be the thing that consumes your energy, time, or peace.

Take the Break You Deserve

If you find yourself feeling overwhelmed, anxious, or hopeless—it might be time to check in.

Ask yourself:

  • How much news have I consumed today?

  • Have I moved my body?

  • Have I taken a deep breath?

  • Have I laughed, reached out to someone, or stepped outside?

The news will still be there when you get back. But your peace needs to be protected now.

Take the break. Put the phone down. Fold up the paper. Let your mind rest. Engage with your life—your real, tangible, beautiful life.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s check in together, SLAYER:

  • S: Do you find yourself consumed by news or social media during difficult times?

  • L: How does this impact your mental, emotional, and physical health?

  • A: What’s one boundary you can set today to create more balance?

  • Y: What can you add into your daily routine to feed your spirit and shift your focus back to the present?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
How are you protecting your peace while staying informed?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s feeling overwhelmed by the noise, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

How Does This Make Us Better?

Every challenge carries a choice. It can break us—or it can shape us.

Some of the hardest moments in my life are also the ones that changed me the most. Even the night I nearly lost my life—by all accounts, a night I shouldn’t have survived—eventually became a turning point. That experience didn’t just shake me, it redefined me. Not instantly, and not without pain, but over time, it became the spark for something more.

At first, I didn’t feel lucky to be alive. I felt guilty. I questioned whether my life was worth saving. What had I done to deserve another chance? Was I doing enough with the life I had?

But as I worked through the survivor’s guilt, something shifted. I began to see the opportunity in front of me—not just to live, but to give back. To take stock of my life. To use my pain for purpose.

And that’s what ultimately inspired me to create this blog—to take the hardest parts of my journey and turn them into a light for someone else.

The Darkness Doesn’t Last Forever

When you’re in the middle of it—whatever it is—it’s hard to imagine things getting better.

I remember thinking the darkness was permanent. That I’d never see light again. I hid. I shut down. I told myself if I admitted how bad things were, people would think I was broken.

But that wasn’t true.

The truth is, it took someone else shining their light to help me find my own. One person shared their story. One person reached out. And that small gesture gave me just enough hope to believe that maybe—just maybe—things could change.

Fighting my way out took honesty, stamina, and support. And I didn’t do it alone. I still don’t. Fourteen years later, I still lean on the people in my corner. Because healing isn’t a one-time event—it’s a daily choice.

Turn the Pain Into Purpose

As I began to untangle my past, I started to see how it could be used for good.

The darkness I had once resented became a foundation for something bigger. A way to connect with others. A way to offer hope. A way to create change.

The truth is, we don’t just “get through” hard things. We grow through them.

Every difficult season gave me a tool—resilience, compassion, boundaries, forgiveness. And with each tool, life became a little more manageable.

I’ve learned to ask for help. I’ve learned how to stay in the light. And I’ve learned that even when I don’t have the answers, I can reach out to someone who does.

None of this happened in isolation. And it wasn’t meant to. We’re not built to walk this path alone.

We’re Always in This Together

There’s a hashtag I see a lot: #WereInThisTogether. And while it’s been used to describe difficult global seasons, the truth is—it applies to all of life.

We are always in this together.
It’s easy to forget that when things are going well. But in moments of pain, we remember: we need each other.

And when we remember that, we grow stronger—not just as individuals, but as a collective.

When we rise, we lift others with us.
When we heal, we make space for others to do the same.

Choosing to Come Out Better

Right now, we all have a little more time to think. Life has slowed down, and in the pause, there’s a chance to reflect.

So here’s a question worth asking: How does this make me better?

Not how does this break me—but how can I use this to grow?
How can I take this struggle, this shift, this pause—and turn it into purpose?

That’s where real transformation happens. In the questions. In the actions. In the moments we choose light over darkness, connection over isolation, growth over fear.

We all have room to grow. We all have ways to get better. The choice is ours—every single day.

So what will you choose today?

SLAY Reflection

Take a moment, SLAYER, and reflect:

  • S: Have difficult times in your life led to personal growth? What did you learn?

  • L: Are there past challenges you now see as defining moments? What shifted?

  • A: What can you take from your current season and use to grow or help someone else?

  • Y: What’s one positive change you can commit to today that will lead you closer to your best self?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What lessons have you taken from your darkest moments, and how did they shape who you are today?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

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

Giving Rather Than Getting

There was a time when everything I did came with a silent expectation.
If I showed up for you, I wanted something in return. If I helped, I hoped you’d notice. And if I gave anything of myself, I measured it against what I might receive.

The scales were always out—always tallying the effort and the reward. And when the reward didn’t match the effort? I’d spiral. I’d get resentful, frustrated, even self-righteous. I wore my “sacrifice” like a badge, convincing myself I was generous, when in reality, I was just trying to fill an empty space inside me.

But living that way left me exhausted, isolated, and hollow. It was all about me—and it never felt like enough.

Learning to Give Without Expectation

When I began my recovery journey, one of the first things I was told was this: to keep what you’ve been given, you have to give it away.

At first, that made no sense to me. I was barely hanging on. I felt like I had nothing to offer. How could I give when I was still trying to survive?

But I quickly learned that we always have something to give. Even when we’re at our lowest, our honesty, our story, our presence—they matter.

On the days when I felt broken or unsure, just saying “I’m not okay today” gave others permission to say the same. That alone created connection. And that connection helped both of us breathe a little easier.

Service Is a Two-Way Street

Giving isn’t just about grand gestures. It’s about showing up. Listening. Checking in. Offering time or kindness without needing anything back.

And here’s the thing: when we shift our focus from ourselves to someone else, something powerful happens. We get out of our heads. We stop obsessing over our problems, even for a moment. And sometimes, those moments are exactly what we need to find our footing again.

Helping others helps us, too. It reminds us of how far we’ve come. It brings us back to the present. And it shows us that we’re capable of making a difference—even on days when we feel like we’re falling apart.

But it only works when we give without strings attached.

Check Your Motives

There’s a big difference between offering help out of love and offering help because you expect something in return.

One is generous.
The other is transactional.

And when we expect something in return, it turns kindness into manipulation.

It’s not always easy to recognize. Sometimes, our ego disguises expectation as “helpfulness.” But if you’re giving with a secret hope that someone will praise you, repay you, or see you differently—it’s time to check your motives.

The truth is, the real reward of giving comes when we release the outcome. When we trust that showing up with a pure heart is enough.

Let the Act Be the Gift

When we give freely, with no attachment to the result, we open ourselves up to deeper joy, unexpected blessings, and real connection.

Sometimes the reward is knowing someone else feels less alone. Sometimes it’s gaining perspective on our own journey. And sometimes it’s simply the peace that comes from doing the next right thing.

The universe has a way of putting us exactly where we need to be—if we’re willing to stay present and let go of what we think we should get out of it.

So next time you feel moved to give, ask yourself: Am I giving for the right reasons?
If the answer is yes—lean in. You never know how far that act of kindness might reach.

SLAY Reflection

Let’s get real, SLAYER:

  • S: Do you focus more on giving or on what you might get in return?

  • L: Have you ever felt disappointed after giving? What were your expectations?

  • A: What would giving look like in your life if you let go of the outcome?

  • Y: How can you show up for someone today simply because you want to—not because of what you might receive in return?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
When was the last time you gave without expecting anything in return—and how did it shift your day or your perspective?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

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

If You’re Thinking Long You’re Thinking Wrong

Overthinking is something most of us know all too well. Whether we’re trying to talk ourselves into a decision we know deep down isn’t right, delaying a choice we don’t want to face, or spinning our wheels in solo analysis instead of asking for help—we waste a lot of time trying to force a result that usually isn’t meant for us.

I’ve done it more times than I can count. I would think a situation to death, trying to make it make sense or to justify an action I wanted to take. And almost always, that thinking led me in circles. No resolution. No peace. Just more confusion.

Thinking Isn’t the Problem—Overthinking Is

There’s value in pausing to make a thoughtful choice. But when that pause becomes paralysis? That’s usually a red flag.

In my past, I often sat in silence with my thoughts. I wouldn’t share them. I wouldn’t ask for help. I just stayed stuck—spinning in fear, doubt, and self-sabotage. My negative inner voice had full control, and the longer I stayed in my head, the more power I gave it. That thinking nearly cost me my life. Because at some point, I had to face the truth: my thinking alone wasn’t always trustworthy.

Recovery taught me something vital: just because I think it doesn’t make it true. And just because I want something to work, doesn’t mean it’s right.

Gut Check: What’s Really Going On?

When we find ourselves overthinking, it’s often because we’re trying to:

  • Force something that isn’t right
  • Avoid something we don’t want to face
  • Convince ourselves to go against our intuition

Sometimes, our mind will fight our gut. Our fear will argue with our truth. That’s why it’s so important to stay honest—and to talk it out with someone you trust.

You don’t have to think your way out of everything alone. Insight often comes when we open up, ask questions, and let others help us see clearly.

Action Beats Inaction

Long thinking is often a mask for fear. But taking action—even one small step—can break the loop.

If you’ve been stuck in thought, ask yourself:

  • What am I really afraid of?
  • What’s one action I can take to move forward?
  • Who can I talk to about this?

Not every decision needs weeks of thought. Sometimes, you already know the answer—you’re just scared to act on it.

Trust yourself enough to try. And if it’s the wrong move? You can course correct. But don’t let thinking be the reason you stay stuck.

SLAY on.

SLAY Reflection: What’s Keeping You Stuck?

  • Do you find yourself overthinking important decisions? What does that usually look like for you?
  • Have you talked yourself out of action before? Why?
  • What’s one decision you’ve been sitting on for too long?
  • What’s one step you can take today to move forward?
  • Who could you talk to for clarity or support?

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one decision you’re ready to stop overthinking and finally act on?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in their head, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a little clarity—and a nudge to begin.

What Are You Going To Do About It?

We all have those days—the ones where everything feels off, and the voice in our head won’t stop pointing out what’s wrong. It’s easy to slip into negativity. To complain, spiral, and believe we’re stuck. But when the clouds gather, there’s one question that cuts through the noise:

What are you going to do about it?

Negativity Can Become a Habit

There was a time when negativity was my default. No matter what I had or how good things should’ve been, I’d find the flaw. I’d vent, criticize, and stay stuck in that cycle—not realizing I was cementing the very misery I wanted to escape.

I told myself I was making changes. But in reality, I was chasing quick fixes—temporary solutions that numbed the discomfort without addressing the root. The result? A deeper hole, darker thoughts, and more reasons to stay stuck.

It’s not just that complaining feeds negativity. It’s that it validates it. Every time I repeated my negative thoughts out loud, I gave them more power. And the more I listened, the more they became my truth.

The Power of Action

When I finally asked for help and began my healing journey, I realized how much control I actually had. Not over others. Not over circumstances. But over how I respond.

If I woke up expecting a bad day, that’s exactly what I got. But when I shifted my mindset—when I took intentional steps to create good—I started experiencing good. Not perfect. But better. Brighter.

The truth is: no one is coming to save us. We can receive support, yes. But lasting change comes when we take ownership. When we stop waiting for our life to fix itself and choose to be the one who takes action.

That’s where self-love kicks in. Not the feel-good fluff, but the real work: showing up for yourself when it’s hard. Creating small wins. Caring for your body, your mind, your spirit—even when it feels easier to quit.

From Reaction to Response

It’s easy to fall into victim mode. But that doesn’t mean we’re helpless. The shift happens the moment we pause and ask:

What can I do about this—right now?

Can I get up and go for a walk? Take a deep breath? Make a to-do list? Reach out to someone? Focus on gratitude? Take one small action that reminds me I’m in charge of my own energy?

You don’t have to fix everything at once. But doing something breaks the cycle.

Because staying in the same place and expecting a different outcome? That’s a trap. And you’re too powerful to stay stuck.

Progress Over Perfection

No one gets it right every day. Some days will be messy. You’ll slip. You’ll spiral. That’s okay.

But if you keep showing up—even imperfectly—you’ll build momentum. And over time, those small choices add up.

  • You’ll feel stronger.
  • You’ll feel braver.
  • You’ll start to believe in your own worth.

You deserve a life that feels good from the inside out. And it starts with asking yourself the hard question—and answering it with love.

So next time you catch yourself complaining, pause. Ask:

What am I going to do about it?

Then take the first step.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you notice yourself slipping into negative thinking often? What triggers it?
  2. How do you usually respond when those thoughts arise?
  3. What small action helps shift you out of a negative space?
  4. Do you believe you deserve a better experience? If not, why?
  5. What’s one positive step you can commit to today?

S-L-A-Y:

  • Spot the spiral
  • Lean into self-awareness
  • Act with intention
  • You hold the power to change your day

Call to Action: Join the Conversation I’d love to hear from you.
When you feel stuck in negative thinking, what’s one thing you do to break the cycle?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s been feeling overwhelmed or defeated, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Fighting Your Own Battle

Most of us have heard the phrase: Be kind, for everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about. It’s a gentle reminder to extend grace to others. But here’s the truth that hits a little deeper: Sometimes we do know what battle someone is facing—and we’re still trying to fight our own.

It’s hard enough to stay present in our own struggle. Add in someone else’s chaos, triggers, or unresolved pain, and suddenly your progress feels shaky, your peace interrupted, your healing…unraveled.

I Had to Learn to Fight for Myself First

For years, I didn’t know how to fight my own battle. I carried old wounds, outdated beliefs, and habits that didn’t serve me—but they were familiar. They felt like truth.

Over time, I found my stride. I learned to live with my battle in a way that felt healthy, loving, and sustainable. But the journey wasn’t smooth. I assumed that because I was working so hard to grow, change, and heal…everyone else was too.

Spoiler alert: They weren’t.

That assumption pulled me down more than once. I had to stop seeing people for their potential and start meeting them exactly where they were. It wasn’t my job to rescue anyone or walk their path for them.

I had to protect my own peace—not because I was better, but because I was responsible for keeping myself well. And that meant accepting that not everyone is ready to do their work. Not everyone wants to. Not everyone knows how. And that’s not my battle to fight.

Other People’s Battles Are Not Yours to Lose

There will be people in your life who trigger things you thought you’d healed. It might not even make sense in the moment. But their words, tone, or behavior can hit a nerve connected to a wound from long ago.

Or maybe they remind you of yourself—an older version of you, or a part of you you’re still trying to change. And instead of compassion, you find yourself feeling judgmental or impatient.

When that happens, pause. Ask yourself:

Is this really about them—or is it about something unhealed in me?

We can’t control how others show up. But we can decide how much power we give them. If you’re agitated, it’s your responsibility to ask why.

That doesn’t mean blaming yourself. It means getting curious about your own reactions.

If someone’s behavior is affecting your peace and you can’t fix the issue—walk away. Let it go. Preserve your space. Protect your peace.

Focus on Your Fight

Your path is yours. So is your pace.

You’re allowed to heal slowly. You’re allowed to outgrow what you’ve outlived. You’re allowed to say, “I love you, but I’m focusing on me right now.”

And you’re also allowed to ask:

Why does this bother me? What is this trying to teach me?

You can’t fight someone else’s battle. They can’t fight yours. And trying to do so only distracts you from your own healing.

You’ve worked too hard to let someone else’s war pull you back into old patterns.

So stay the course. Fight clean. Protect your energy. Stay on your path.

You’re not just fighting—you’re winning. One healthy boundary at a time.

SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • Are you letting someone else’s energy throw you off track?
  • Do you take on other people’s battles to avoid your own?
  • What triggers you—and what does that trigger reveal about your healing?
  • Can you separate what’s yours from what’s not yours to carry?
  • What boundary can you set today to protect your peace?

S – L – A – Y

S: See what’s truly yours to carry.
L: Listen to what your agitation is telling you.
A: Act by protecting your peace, even if it means walking away.
Y: Yield to your own path—it’s where your healing lives.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Have you ever found yourself fighting someone else’s battle instead of your own?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to stay in their own lane, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.