Even I Had to Wake Myself Up

Sis, can I be real with you for a minute? You might think that as a coach I’m always motivated, always on point. But let me tell you—I recently hit a season where I felt completely lost. I’m talking stuck, stagnant, not myself at all. Hard to believe, right? Well, believe it. Even I had to have a serious wake-up call with my own spirit.

I had been moving through life on autopilot, doing all the “right” things that were expected of me. I stayed way too long in a job purely for survival—because bills needed paying and kids needed feeding. I was pouring from an empty cup, trying to be everything for everyone. As a mother of five, my hands and heart were full, and every day felt like a race. On top of that, I was helping build someone else’s campaign and vision, investing my energy into their dream. And don’t get me wrong, I was proud to help—but in doing so, I put my own dream on the back burner. My vision for VRN (Victim Retribution Network), the mission God put on my heart, started collecting dust while I was busy helping everybody else.

I woke up day after day feeling like I was just going through the motions. I was busy all the time, yet my soul felt stagnant. I started telling myself this nasty little story: “E, you failed. You had a plan and you didn’t stick to it. Look at you—off track, momentum gone. You blew your chance.” I was beating myself up for not doing more with my vision, for letting worldly circumstances consume me. I was so caught up in surviving each day that I forgot my spiritual calling. That calling had once burned so brightly in my chest, and now it felt dim. And girl, that realization hurt.

Reflection Prompt:
Think about an area in your life where you’ve been in survival mode instead of living in your purpose. Where have you been pouring your energy into others or into “just getting by,” while your own dream gathers dust? Write it down. What have you put on the back burner, and why?

When Staying “Safe” Left Me Stuck

It all came to a head one evening after I put the kids to bed. I sat alone in the quiet living room, utterly exhausted. My mind was racing with worries: the kids’ needs, that never-ending to-do list at work, the commitments I made to everyone except myself. I felt a heaviness on my chest and tears in my eyes. I realized I hardly recognized myself anymore. Where was the fiery, purpose-driven woman I used to be?

In that moment of raw honesty, I had to call myself out. I literally whispered to my reflection in the dark window, “Girl, what are you doing? Why are you really stuck like this?” It was like an inner voice—or better yet, my higher self—was nudging me to confront the truth. And the truth that rose up hit me hard: I was scared. I was playing it safe in that dead-end job and other people’s projects because I was terrified of truly stepping out on my own path. I was afraid that if I went all-in on my vision, I might fail. I might let my family down. I might find out I wasn’t as capable as I hoped.

Fear was straight-up paralyzing me, sis. I hadn’t admitted that until that night. I had been telling myself I “had to” stay at that job for the steady paycheck, or I “had to” help with that campaign because no one else could do it. But those were excuses masking the fear. The reality was, I was choosing safety over growth, familiarity over calling. I had built my own little cage and convinced myself it was noble to stay in it. Meanwhile, my dream was outside those bars, getting farther and farther away.

Once I faced that fear head on, I knew something had to give. I remember sitting there like, “E, you keep talking about faith, but where’s your movement?” That’s when it hit me: faith without work is dead. Period. I couldn’t just pray for success and sit still waiting on it to fall in my lap. I had to move. I had to take action, even while I was still afraid. I gave myself some real tough love: “Get up, E. You’re scared? Fine. Do it scared. But do it.” I had to realize that I couldn’t expect God to steer a parked car — I had to put it in drive and let my faith be my fuel.

Reflection Prompt:
Be honest with yourself: What fear is keeping you stuck right now? Is it fear of failure? Fear of what people will say? Fear of leaving something secure? Name that fear on paper. Then ask: What is this fear costing me in the long run?

Choosing to Walk by Faith

So what did I do next? I made a choice: I chose to step out in faith, even with wobbly legs. I didn’t have a 10-step plan (y’all know I love a good plan, but this time I had to improvise with faith). I just knew I couldn’t stay stuck. The very next day, I began moving. I woke up a bit earlier to meditate and journal, reconnecting with my spirit and my inner truth. I dusted off my VRN notebook—the one filled with all my ideas and passionate scribbles—and I actually let myself dream on those pages again. That day at work, I quietly set a date in my mind to leave that job. I started imagining what it would be like to fully pursue my vision.

Walking by faith for me meant letting go of needing to see the whole path. I didn’t need every detail figured out. I just needed to trust that as long as I kept aligning my actions with my spirit, the next step would always reveal itself. It was scary, no lie. My inner control-freak was panicking, listing all the “what-ifs”: What if it doesn’t work out? What if you make less money at first? What if you disappoint people? But for each “what if,” I reminded myself: What if it does work out? What if this is your breakthrough? I had to trust that what was placed on my heart was there for a reason.

As I started to act in faith, something amazing happened: that heavy cloud of hopelessness began to lift. I hadn’t even left the job yet or made any big announcement, but just deciding to move forward gave me life. I felt lighter. I felt closer to myself. I even started smiling more around my kids because Mommy wasn’t so miserable and torn up on the inside anymore. They noticed it, too. My oldest hugged me one night and said, “Mom, you seem happy.” (Whew, that hit me—I hadn’t realized how much my funk was affecting my babies.)

Reflection Prompt:
Imagine the fear wasn’t there—what’s the first move you would make toward your dream or a goal that’s been on your heart? Now, think of one small step you can take with the fear still present. Write it down. Commit to taking that one step this week, even if it’s tiny. That’s you walking by faith, one step at a time.

Redefining Happiness and Success on My Terms

As I journeyed through this wake-up process, I had to get clear on what happiness and success really meant to me. See, I realized I had internalized a lot of society’s definitions. I thought happiness was a feeling that would just show up once everything in my life was perfect and peaceful. I thought success was a destination—a big shiny achievement I’d reach one day if I worked hard enough and did everything right. No wonder I felt like a failure! By those definitions, I was coming up short.

So I decided to rewrite those definitions for myself. Happiness, I now believe, is not just a fleeting feeling when circumstances are ideal. It’s a mindset I choose every day. It’s finding a moment of gratitude in the chaos. It’s the peace I feel when I know I’m aligned with my purpose, even if my life is still messy and imperfect. I started choosing to see blessings in the midst of the struggle—like the fact that my hectic job was at least teaching me patience, or that helping with that campaign taught me new skills. I chose to smile more, to meditate more, to laugh with my kids even when I was tired. I cultivated happiness instead of waiting for it to magically appear.

And success? I tossed out the idea that success equals money, titles, or other people’s approval. Nope. Success is personal. For me, success now means living out my calling and using the gifts I was given. It means I’m being true to myself and the vision placed in my heart. If at the end of the day I can say, “I moved in alignment today, I showed love to my kids and community, and I didn’t give up on myself,” then I was successful. I realized success isn’t a single big moment — it’s all the little choices and victories along the way. It’s every time I refused to stay down, every time I chose purpose over fear.

Reflection Prompt:
Grab your journal and define “happiness” and “success” for yourself. What do these words truly mean to you at this stage in your life? Are your definitions coming from your heart, or from what others have told you they should be? Write down your own definitions. Then ask yourself: Are my daily choices aligning with these definitions? If not, what could you do differently?

Choose Your Light Over Your Pain

Now I want to talk to you, sis—to the woman reading this who might be nodding along because you feel some of what I felt. Maybe you’re a mom like me, trying to keep it together for everyone. Maybe you’re working a job that drains you, but you stay because you think you have to. Maybe you put your own dreams on the shelf because life got too real, too hard. You might even feel guilty for wanting more, because so many people count on you. I see you. I am you. And I want you to hear me on this: Your story isn’t over, and this “stuck” season is not where you’re meant to stay.

Yes, you’ve been through some pain. We as women carry pain that would break others apart. We carry it with grace and strength, often in silence. But carrying pain is not the same as healing from it or growing through it. I realized I had a choice: I could either let my pain and exhaustion become my identity (the tired, defeated, always-struggling woman), or I could choose to believe that I am more than my circumstances. I could choose to honor that little light inside me—the one that never truly went out, even when I was at my lowest. That light is my higher self, my resilience, my inner knowing. It’s the part of me that says, “There is more for you, E. You were made for more.” That is my light. And I had to choose it over the pain.

I want you to choose your light, too. Your light might be the passion project you’ve buried under obligation. It might be the voice inside that says “start that business,” or “go back to school,” or “leave that toxic situation.” Your light is the love that still lives in your heart despite everything you’ve been through. It’s your creativity, your quiet wisdom, your purpose. Choose that. Not the past hurt, not the labels the world put on you, not the fear of what could go wrong. Those things are heavy, and they will keep you stuck if you hold onto them. Your light, on the other hand, will free you if you let it shine.

Choosing yourself and your light over your pain is not selfish—let’s kill that lie right now. It’s self-love. It’s necessary. When I finally chose me, it didn’t mean I abandoned my responsibilities. I still love and care for my children, my community, my work. In fact, I’m better at all those roles now because I’m operating from a place of passion and alignment, not just obligation and burnout. When you shine, everyone around you gets to feel that warmth. Trust me, your kids, your loved ones, your community need to see you alive and thriving. It gives them permission to do the same.

Reflection Prompt:
Think about what it would mean for you to choose your light over your pain. What is one concrete way you can choose yourself this week? Maybe it’s setting a boundary with someone who drains you. Maybe it’s signing up for that class or dusting off that old business idea. Maybe it’s simply taking an hour for yourself to reconnect with what brings you joy. Write down one thing you will do in the next few days to honor your light. Commit to it like you’d commit to someone you love—because you deserve your love and commitment too.

 I won’t pretend that waking myself up was easy. It wasn’t. It took a lot of silence, a lot of self-talk, and a lot of tuning in. But it was the best decision I ever made. I got myself back. I’m still on the journey, but I’m moving forward now, step by step, day by day, and it feels so damn good to be actively living my life again, not just letting life happen to me.

And I want that for you, too. I’m rooting for you. I believe in you, even if you’ve forgotten how to believe in yourself for a moment. If you’ve read this far, I hope you feel my heart in these words. This is your sister Coach E giving you the real, sharing my story so you know you’re not alone and so you can see that change is possible. Even the motivator needed a wake-up call—so don’t feel bad if you do, too. What matters is what you do once you hear that alarm in your spirit.

So rise up, beautiful. Wipe those tears, straighten your crown, and take that first shaky step. Choose you. Choose your light. Choose faith over fear, purpose over perfection, progress over paralysis. Your future self is waiting, hand outstretched, ready to pull you into a brighter chapter. And I promise, if you trust yourself and take that first step inward, everything else will start to align.

Want to talk or share your heart with me? Email me at [email protected].  You’re not alone on this journey—we’re waking up and walking in purpose together. ❤️