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Judge's gavel and paper with the words negligence of duty.

Let me tell you something the courtroom never prepared me for: The silence of the system hurts more than the act of violence itself.See, when a child is harmed, when a mother cries out, when the truth stands bruised but bold in the open—you expect the authorities to do something. You think if you show up with evidence, courage, and a broken heart still beating through the pain, someone will listen. Someone will act.But instead? They feed you policies that protect the predator. They drown you in procedures that delay protection. They tell you his rights matter more than your child’s recovery.The Police doesn't properly investigate, the DA doesn't listen when you try to advocate, and the judges words upon sentencing— yeah they live rent-free in your mind. Not because they were wise—but because they were damning. Because they reduced your pain to a procedure. Because they spoke of fairness in favor of the man who broke every moral code you ever believed in.And now, the people who helped him lie is online, taunting you. The man who manipulated your child is walking freely. And the system that was supposed to shield you? It turned its back and dared to call it justice.<figure id="figure-wrat24a4dmdaii8qq"><img id="wrat24a4dmdaii8qq" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1331533307/photo/body-shape-of-woman-as-silhouette-expression-sad-cry-and-loneliness.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=uY4y030sABYIX1E5wC7PoSpmhGUPdEiR9nz7oEcKv-8=" alt="Body shape of woman as silhouette expression sad, cry and loneliness" title="Body shape of woman as silhouette expression sad, cry and loneliness" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1331533307/photo/body-shape-of-woman-as-silhouette-expression-sad-cry-and-loneliness.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=uY4y030sABYIX1E5wC7PoSpmhGUPdEiR9nz7oEcKv-8=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>⚖️ What Justice Looks Like When It’s Weaponized </h3>What I’ve come to understand, through fire and study, is this: Our justice system is not built to protect the wounded. It’s built to preserve the accused.This isn’t just emotional—this is constitutional.Let’s talk about retribution.In criminal justice theory, retribution is one of the four primary goals of punishment. It is based on the belief that a person who commits a crime deserves to suffer in proportion to the harm they caused. It is not revenge—it is moral balancing. A reckoning of wrongs through lawful consequence.But here’s where the system fails:When that retribution is denied, truth becomes unstable. And when truth becomes unstable, victims are retraumatized—not once, but repeatedly.<h3>🧠 The System's Inaction Is Not Neutral—It’s Negligence. </h3>When a judge grants leniency to a man accused of violating a child, when a probation officer confirms he should be nowhere near children yet does nothing to remove him from a house where kids live, when CPS shows up at my door instead of his, when courts speak of "his rights" while I’m still bandaging the wounds his actions created—That is not justice. That is state-sanctioned psychological torture.Legally speaking? It’s dereliction of duty. Morally speaking? It’s an accomplice-level failure.Because under both tort law and constitutional law, the government has a duty of care—to protect its citizens from foreseeable harm, especially when they are vulnerable, especially when prior conduct shows a pattern.But this system keeps hiding behind procedure instead of protection.<figure id="figure-hpiyvwf4vmdaiocnh"><img id="hpiyvwf4vmdaiocnh" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1993983703/photo/themis-statue-of-justice-law-legal-system-justice-crime-concept-3d-render.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wyef8Yr_D9bGwhA3MmcRYJiZNBGaNU-KWu7K320JWdI=" alt="Themis Statue of justice Law Legal System Justice Crime concept. 3d render" title="Themis Statue of justice Law Legal System Justice Crime concept. 3d render" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1993983703/photo/themis-statue-of-justice-law-legal-system-justice-crime-concept-3d-render.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=wyef8Yr_D9bGwhA3MmcRYJiZNBGaNU-KWu7K320JWdI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>🔍 Retribution, Truth, and the Broken Social Contract</h3>Let’s go deeper.Retribution is not just about punishment. It’s about restoring moral order. And when the legal system fails to deliver it, people lose faith in law itself.What’s left is not justice—it’s disorder masked as due process.According to social contract theory—the philosophical backbone of our Constitution and the Declaration of Independence—governments exist only by the consent of the governed. Their power is conditional. Their authority is earned by protecting rights, not violating them.The Declaration says it plainly:<h3 style="padding-left: 40px;" data-mce-style="padding-left: 40px;">“Whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it…”</h3>And what is more destructive than a government that:<ul><li>Refuses to protect our children.</li><li>Shields abusers with procedure?</li><li>Empowers accomplices through silence?</li><li>Punishes mothers for protecting their own? </li></ul>That is not justice. That is betrayal.<h3>🧨 This Is Bigger Than One Courtroom. This Is a Broken System Being Exposed. </h3>They tell me “he has rights.” They say “you need to let the court process play out.” They tell me to “calm down,” “be reasonable,” “follow the rules.”But what do you do when the rules are written to protect the ones doing the harm?This isn’t about emotions. This is about constitutional decay. This is about the erosion of retributive justice, procedural fairness, and duty of care.This is about a system that keeps victims in cycles of abuse, retraumatizing them through neglect, delay, and indifference.<figure id="figure-khhkyz2tnamdaiw4np"><img id="khhkyz2tnamdaiw4np" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1285097589/photo/the-law-cant-touch-me.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=YN07oPswGDQ3fZ_U0VRJf5K8HgUz2IydxouI_Krn-cQ=" alt="The law can’t touch me" title="The law can’t touch me" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1285097589/photo/the-law-cant-touch-me.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=YN07oPswGDQ3fZ_U0VRJf5K8HgUz2IydxouI_Krn-cQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>🔥 So I’m Not Waiting Anymore—And I’m Not Asking. </h3>This is our Declaration. Our line in the sand. Our reclamation of truth.We are altering the system from the outside in, word by word, rule by rule.If the courts won’t deliver justice, we’ll redefine what justice looks like. If the law won’t protect the innocent, we’ll become the protectors. If the rules weren’t written for us—we’ll write new ones.Because power belongs to the people. Because silence is not safety. Because the truth is not negotiable.<h3>🗣️ To Every Mother Who Feels Like She’s Screaming Into a Void: I Hear You. And I’m Coming for All of It. </h3>The system may be slow, corrupt, and cold. But we? We are strategic. We are on fire. And we are not asking for permission to be allowed.📣 If your child was failed by the courts… 📣 If you were punished for protecting them… 📣 If you’ve been told to be quiet, sit down, or “let it go”—Don’t.Tell your story. Reach out. Stand with me. We are reclaiming power, redefining justice, and holding every accomplice accountable—from the ones in robes to the ones hiding behind the predator they protect.This is not a movement for pity. It’s a mission for truth. And it begins with us.We are the retribution. We are the rule-changers. We are the rise.<figure id="figure-jtf8o8nc9cmd9e3u2r"><img id="jtf8o8nc9cmd9e3u2r" src="https://cdn.durable.co/covers/15odIYvxL32wAelKoPsttRteYT7f24OclA9q1EWYYirJTfy1H9MNR6iNdnQC2dGc.png" alt="Phoenix bird" title="Phoenix bird" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>

When Justice Protects the Predator: How the System Becomes an Accomplice to Harm

<h2>Sis, Let’s Talk About Seasons — Not Just Weather, But You </h2>Life moves in seasons — spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and yes, physically. And if you’re paying attention, you’ll feel it in your bones. The shift in the air. The tug in your spirit. That quiet inner whisper that says: “Something’s changing.”But most of us were never taught how to move with the seasons. We push ourselves the same in winter as we do in summer. We shame ourselves for feeling tired when the earth is literally slowing down. We call it laziness when really — it’s alignment. It’s sacred rest. It’s nature telling you to pause, recharge, and listen.So let me say this loud and soft at the same time: You are allowed to evolve with the earth. Your mood, energy, appetite, drive — it’s all connected to the cycle of the seasons. And honoring that? That’s self-care on a soul level.🖊️ SOUL CHECK-IN PROMPT: What season are you currently living in emotionally? Are you blooming? Resting? Releasing? Rerooting?<h3>Understanding the Sacred Lessons of Each Season </h3>Every season brings more than just weather — it brings wisdom. Let’s break it down:<ul><li style="list-style-type: none;" data-mce-style="list-style-type: none;"><ul style="list-style-type: circle;" data-mce-style="list-style-type: circle;"><li>Spring is for renewal. Planting seeds. Vision boarding. Deep cleansing. Your spirit starts waking up again.</li><li>Summer is for expression. For showing up. For feeling alive and seen. Energy rises. Creativity flows.</li><li>Autumn is for letting go. Releasing what no longer serves. Slowing down. Grounding.</li><li>Winter is for reflection. Sacred stillness. Inner work. Deep rest. Hibernation of the soul.</li></ul></li></ul>When you resist these natural shifts, you create internal chaos. But when you honor them? You walk in divine flow. And baby, that’s when life starts to feel aligned — even in the chaos.🖊️ REFLECTION PROMPT: Which season is hardest for you emotionally? What might that season be trying to teach you about slowing down, stepping up, or shedding old patterns?<figure id="figure-wfw71hpg2xmdas20z2"><img id="wfw71hpg2xmdas20z2" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2221672924/photo/park-laugh-and-women-stretching-outdoor-with-friendship-talking-or-wellness-exercise-sport.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=hSrCml-yaJkl_3GVDiEcg6WXfdZ7vyWSCB1IzMNaMJA=" alt="Park, laugh and women stretching outdoor with friendship, talking or wellness exercise. Sport, fitness and group of female athletes with arm warm up for health activity with conversation in nature" title="Park, laugh and women stretching outdoor with friendship, talking or wellness exercise. Sport, fitness and group of female athletes with arm warm up for health activity with conversation in nature" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2221672924/photo/park-laugh-and-women-stretching-outdoor-with-friendship-talking-or-wellness-exercise-sport.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=hSrCml-yaJkl_3GVDiEcg6WXfdZ7vyWSCB1IzMNaMJA=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>&nbsp;Practicing Soulful, Seasonal Self-Care </h3>This ain’t just about bubble baths and candles (though we love those too). This is about intentional care that matches the energy of the moment. Here’s how to sync your self-care with each season:In Spring:<ul><li>Declutter your space and your spirit</li><li>Reconnect with your body through movement</li><li>Journal your intentions for the months ahead </li></ul>In Summer:<ul><li>Say yes to more joy and more boundaries</li><li>Get outside — let the sun love on your skin</li><li>Create something — art, playlists, rituals, magic </li></ul>In Autumn:<ul><li>Practice gratitude and release</li><li>Reflect on the year so far</li><li>Nourish your body with grounding meals </li></ul>In Winter:<ul><li>Rest without guilt</li><li>Be tender with yourself</li><li>Create cozy rituals: tea, candles, stillness </li></ul>🖊️ JOURNAL PROMPT: What does self-care look like for you this season — not last season’s version, but right now?<h3>&nbsp;Nourishing Your Body Through the Seasons </h3>Listen to your cravings. Your body is wise. In winter, she might want warmth — stews, teas, baked roots. In summer, she might crave hydration — fruits, fresh herbs, crisp greens.Don’t force her to eat like it’s always July or December. Honor her. Feed her with love, not restriction. She’s your home, and she deserves to be cared for in rhythm with what she needs, not just what’s trending.And move your body — not to punish her, but to awaken her. To keep the energy flowing. To shake off seasonal funk when it creeps in.🖊️ BODY PROMPT: What foods, movement, or body rituals make you feel most alive during this season? What are you craving — physically and spiritually?<figure id="figure-oie4jdbc4mdas935j"><img id="oie4jdbc4mdas935j" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1188392570/photo/still-life-details-in-home-on-a-wooden-window-autumn-decor-on-a-window.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=AQS3dQQfDOoN_yytwy1JyZ7xyHAe2HcrH1dJM77pP_o=" alt="Still life details in home on a wooden window. Autumn decor on a window" title="Still life details in home on a wooden window. Autumn decor on a window" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1188392570/photo/still-life-details-in-home-on-a-wooden-window-autumn-decor-on-a-window.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=AQS3dQQfDOoN_yytwy1JyZ7xyHAe2HcrH1dJM77pP_o=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>&nbsp;Creating a Cozy, Sacred Environment </h3>Your home is an extension of your nervous system. So if you’re feeling anxious, drained, or emotionally heavy — check your space.In colder months, you might need warm lighting, cinnamon scents, fuzzy socks, deep reds and oranges. In warmer months, let the light in. Air out the energy. Play soft jazz or gospel. Bring in fresh flowers or eucalyptus to remind your spirit it’s safe to bloom.Your home should reflect your inner state — or at the very least, hold space for the state you want to move into.🖊️ HOME PROMPT: What small shift can you make in your home to support your emotional wellness this season?<h3>&nbsp;Staying Connected Through Seasons of Isolation </h3>We weren’t made to heal alone. Especially when the sun sets earlier, or your energy dips with the season. Don’t retreat so far into your solitude that you forget the medicine of community.Phone a friend. Start a soul group. Go to that brunch. Let your sister circle check on you. And if you feel yourself slipping — reach out for professional support. Ain’t no shame in needing help. It’s strength. It’s wisdom. It’s necessary.Connection keeps us alive. It reminds us: You’re not crazy. You’re human. And you’re loved.🖊️ SISTERHOOD PROMPT: Who do you need to check on this season — and who needs to check on you?<h3>Embracing Change Like the Queen You Are </h3>Change is inevitable. But suffering through it? That’s optional.When we accept the lessons of each season, we free ourselves from shame. We stop fighting the shifts. We let go of the pressure to be consistent all year round. Because baby, even the earth rests. Even the moon goes dark. Even the trees let go.You are not behind. You are not broken. You are becoming.And every single season — no matter how heavy, slow, vibrant, or loud — is part of your becoming.🖊️ SEASONAL CLOSURE PROMPT: What are you ready to release with love this season? And what are you ready to call in?<figure id="figure-vb288v3ukpmdase6mb"><img id="vb288v3ukpmdase6mb" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1295857331/photo/cozy-home-composition-with-a-cup-of-tea-a-kettle-and-a-burning-candle-close-up.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=05UmIalMPwBv12JqQnxnuaUqWyp7xfa57M97v7UHlxc=" alt="Cozy home composition with a cup of tea, a kettle and a burning candle close up." title="Cozy home composition with a cup of tea, a kettle and a burning candle close up." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1295857331/photo/cozy-home-composition-with-a-cup-of-tea-a-kettle-and-a-burning-candle-close-up.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=05UmIalMPwBv12JqQnxnuaUqWyp7xfa57M97v7UHlxc=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>Final Word: Protect Your Peace, Align With Your Pace </h3>Sis, give yourself permission to slow down. To realign. To listen to the whispers of your spirit. You don’t have to grind through every season — some are meant for blooming, others for rest, others for release.Whatever season you’re in right now, remember this: It’s not permanent. It’s purposeful.So stop judging your evolution by a calendar. Instead, feel your way through. Honor your pace. Protect your peace. And let the seasons shape you into something softer, stronger, and more soulfully you.&nbsp; Still sacred. Still evolving. Still in rhythm. — Coach E<figure id="figure-7d4djixbmdasih2r"><img id="7d4djixbmdasih2r" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/eAJBCg7k0m9ezFzqHR89I0tHqQLtyjFY32R1JcEDA8dZvWdzhD87FJI8sU6Ony37.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>

Seasonal Self-Care: Aligning With the Rhythm of Change to Protect Your Peace & Elevate Your Energy

young couple on a date, sitting on the couch and talking

<h2>Let me talk to the version of you who’s still holding on. </h2>The version who keeps rereading the texts. Who replays the conversations in your head, trying to figure out what was real and what was just convenience masked as care. The version of you who thought they were “different” — that this one wouldn’t be like the others.Yeah. This one’s for her.Because we don’t talk enough about the grief that comes from outgrowing people we once thought were soulmates. We don’t talk enough about the heartbreak that comes from losing someone who never physically touched us, but spiritually rearranged us.We call it “friendship.” We call it “chemistry.” We call it “just someone I can always talk to.” But what it really was… was an emotional tether. A trauma bond dressed in spiritual clothing. A space that felt like home until you realized it was built on borrowed bricks.<h3>Let’s Call It What It Was </h3>Sometimes we meet people who feel like medicine. They show up right when we’re unraveling — listening, affirming, speaking to the little girl in us who’s never been seen. It feels divine. It feels safe. It feels ordained.But here’s the thing about medicine — when misused, it becomes poison.And sometimes, what feels familiar ain't safe. It’s just familiar. And because chaos has always felt like home, we mistake the storm for something sacred.Let’s be real: They said the right things. They showed up when others disappeared. They gave just enough to make you think this was it. But deep down? Something never quite settled. Your intuition whispered. Your spirit twitched. But you kept quiet, hoping maybe — just maybe — you were wrong this time.Sis, you weren’t wrong. You were just hoping this one would love you enough not to lie. Not to mislead. Not to weaponize your vulnerability.<figure id="figure-tuy3qdlvemdavfotz"><img id="tuy3qdlvemdavfotz" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2101412820/photo/word-narcissism-on-red-surface.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ao_EIYvGe-r3x1afczEcQ_f2FuCdk9yrsqMCkfSI5NM=" alt="Word Narcissism on red surface." title="Word Narcissism on red surface." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2101412820/photo/word-narcissism-on-red-surface.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ao_EIYvGe-r3x1afczEcQ_f2FuCdk9yrsqMCkfSI5NM=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>The Ache of Unspoken Betrayal </h3>There’s a special kind of pain that comes from people who never put their hands on you, but still left bruises.They never said they were in love. But they behaved like they were. They never promised forever. But their actions said you mattered.And so you gave. Your time. Your secrets. Your softness. You made space for them in places you were still healing — and they didn’t just visit, they moved in.Then one day, you saw it. The inconsistencies. The half-truths. The ways they twisted your words to dodge accountability. The passive-aggressive digs when you dared to speak your truth. The smirks when you cried. The silence when you needed support the most.And the hardest part? They knew exactly what they were doing.<h2>Let’s Talk Accountability — Yours and Theirs </h2>Now let’s be honest about you. You knew. Somewhere deep in your gut, you always knew. You saw the red flags. You made excuses. You loved their potential more than their reality.That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you human. That makes you a woman who loved from her wounds, not her wisdom.But that ends today.You are no longer required to hold space for people who can’t even hold truth. You don’t owe your peace to anyone who mistook your loyalty for leverage. You don’t have to decode manipulation in the name of “keeping the bond.”This isn’t just about them being toxic. This is about you learning to stop sipping poison and calling it intimacy.<h3>Choosing Peace Over Pattern </h3>Here’s the truth that hurts and heals:Some people come into your life just to teach you the lesson your mama never could, because she didn’t heal it herself.Some connections are assignments. Some were mirrors — not partners. Some were karmic — not kindred.And once you learn the lesson? You’re not required to stay in the classroom.You’re allowed to exit gracefully. To block without guilt. To cry and still move on. To forgive and still create distance. To honor the moments that were sweet — and still never go back.Because peace is a choice. And now, so are you.<figure id="figure-fj4xgvpaltmdavkbro"><img id="fj4xgvpaltmdavkbro" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2176351312/photo/curtains-happy-woman-and-thinking-of-future-in-home-planning-and-reflection-of-mindset-with.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=S0j_yTId-ueUEikSevnkjL0U8BX0jZv8zscS4BUhcLY=" alt="Curtains, happy woman and thinking of future in home, planning and reflection of mindset with view. Window, smile and African girl with vision, ideas and dream for morning inspiration in living room" title="Curtains, happy woman and thinking of future in home, planning and reflection of mindset with view. Window, smile and African girl with vision, ideas and dream for morning inspiration in living room" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2176351312/photo/curtains-happy-woman-and-thinking-of-future-in-home-planning-and-reflection-of-mindset-with.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=S0j_yTId-ueUEikSevnkjL0U8BX0jZv8zscS4BUhcLY=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Final Word: You Don’t Need Closure From Them — You Are the Closure </h3>Stop looking for apologies from people who can’t even admit the damage they did. Stop waiting for clarity from someone who knew exactly what they were doing when they blurred the lines.You don’t need to be explained. You don’t need to be understood by people who were committed to misunderstanding you.You are the closure. You are the proof. You are the ending and the beginning.So stand tall. Walk away. Wipe your tears with dignity. And when you miss them? Remind yourself of who you had to become to finally let them go.<h3>&nbsp;WRITING EXERCISE: Closure Without Contact </h3>Prompt #1: What was the turning point for you? Describe the moment when you realized you had to let go. What did your body feel? What did your spirit say?Prompt #2: What parts of yourself did you ignore or silence to stay connected to this person? Write a love letter to those parts and welcome them back home.Prompt #3: Finish this sentence: “I’m choosing me now because…”&nbsp; Still healing. Still holy. Still not explaining myself. — Coach E<figure id="figure-dcalh1oiyrmdavmsk5"><img id="dcalh1oiyrmdavmsk5" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/eAJBCg7k0m9ezFzqHR89I0tHqQLtyjFY32R1JcEDA8dZvWdzhD87FJI8sU6Ony37.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="null" data-positionY="null" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>

The Ones We Called Home: Letting Go of People Who Were Never Meant to Stay

<h3>First Things First: Understanding the Pain of Lost Love 💔&nbsp; </h3>Let’s stop pretending heartbreak is just a phase you “get over.” Nah. Let’s be honest: heartbreak is a full-body experience. It don’t just hurt your heart — it bruises your ego, shakes your spirit, and has you questioning everything you thought you knew about love, people, and yourself.Whether you walked away or got left behind… Whether it was slow and silent or quick and cruel… The pain still hit. The void still showed up. And suddenly, everything feels unfamiliar — your body, your smile, your peace.Heartbreak ain’t petty. It’s grief. And grief is messy. It don’t come with rules. One minute you’re good — posting quotes and feeling empowered. The next, you’re on the floor crying over memories, songs, and moments that don’t even make sense to cry about anymore.Sis, let me say this loud: You are allowed to mourn. You are allowed to break down and still be a baddie. You are allowed to not be okay. Because what you felt was real. We were never taught how to lose love with grace — especially not as Black women. We were taught to hold it down, make it work, fix it. And when it falls apart? We carry the shame like it’s our fault.🪞 SOUL-PULL PROMPT: What part of your heartbreak are you still blaming yourself for? Write it out. Then write down five reasons it was never yours to carry.<figure id="figure-kp2x2hl1lmdamx8d8"><img id="kp2x2hl1lmdamx8d8" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2201809685/photo/young-woman-feeling-heart-broken-loosing-someone-you-love-relationship-difficulties.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=BKhcDQvIm3HJFoXTOywisw5uwObEGyXk_YEcHh6Re_I=" alt="Young woman feeling heart broken, loosing someone you love, relationship difficulties." title="Young woman feeling heart broken, loosing someone you love, relationship difficulties." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2201809685/photo/young-woman-feeling-heart-broken-loosing-someone-you-love-relationship-difficulties.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=BKhcDQvIm3HJFoXTOywisw5uwObEGyXk_YEcHh6Re_I=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>&nbsp;When Love Leaves You Empty… </h3>There’s a silence after heartbreak that ain’t just quiet — it’s haunting. It’s the silence in your phone, in your bed, in your own thoughts. You sit in it, overthinking every word, every sign, every moment where you maybe should’ve left — but stayed.“Was I not enough?” “Did I do too much?” “Why did I love so hard for someone who didn’t even love me whole?” Stop right there, Queen.You didn’t love wrong. You just loved someone who couldn’t receive you. Someone who didn’t even know how to love themselves, let alone match the depth of what you were giving.This pain isn’t proof that you failed. It’s proof that you’re human. That your heart was open. That your love was pure. And that’s powerful.What you’re feeling right now isn’t weakness — it’s sacred grief. It means your soul is detoxing. You are being stripped of everything that kept you small, codependent, and stuck.And trust me — that emptiness? It won’t stay empty. That silence? It’s space being cleared for your rebirth.🖊️ TRUTH-TELLING PROMPT: What do you miss — the person, or the version of you that felt wanted, chosen, or safe? Be real with yourself.<h2>Sis, It’s Time to Re-Meet Yourself</h2>You’ve spent so much time being someone else’s “better half” that you forgot you were already whole. You forgot what your laugh sounded like when it wasn’t trying to make someone stay. You forgot what peace felt like when it wasn’t temporary.But here’s the good news: You get to reintroduce yourself. This time, without the filters, without the performing, without the emotional labor that love demanded and never reciprocated.Rediscovery ain’t about being the woman he lost — it’s about becoming the woman you almost forgot you were.What do you love when no one’s watching? What turns your soul on that has nothing to do with romance? What parts of you did you put on pause just to feel “wanted”?Baby, go find her. Not for him. Not for revenge. But for you.🖊️ REBIRTH PROMPT: Write down three parts of yourself you buried in that relationship — and how you plan to resurrect them this season.<h3>New Energy, New Everything </h3>You ever notice how everything around you starts to feel new once you let go of what was draining you?Colors pop again. Your skin glows different. You move different. That’s the glow-up nobody can deny — the internal one. The one that don’t need validation, applause, or a “look what you lost” post.This is your divine permission slip to reinvent yourself. New hobbies. New habits. New hustle. New mindset. Try things you used to think weren’t “you.” Make mistakes. Learn. Laugh hard. Go places you’ve never been. Say yes to yourself without second-guessing.You’ve got all this sacred energy coming back to you — energy you used to pour into someone else. Now it’s time to reinvest that into your own evolution.🖊️ RECLAMATION PROMPT: Write down a “New Me” bucket list — not based on revenge or proving anything, but based on joy, curiosity, and alignment.<figure id="figure-qe2e5jfpgmdan37q7"><img id="qe2e5jfpgmdan37q7" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1570532335/photo/attractive-smiling-african-woman-wearing-ribbed-tank-top-and-jeans-sitting-cross-legged-on.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=mVAF6ZITC6qKFErAdTszKIYypWOp8AT5PKJcmG_eqTk=" alt="Attractive smiling African woman wearing ribbed tank top and jeans sitting cross-legged on the windowsill and looking through the window. Urban life concept, daydreaming. Planning future concept" title="Attractive smiling African woman wearing ribbed tank top and jeans sitting cross-legged on the windowsill and looking through the window. Urban life concept, daydreaming. Planning future concept" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1570532335/photo/attractive-smiling-african-woman-wearing-ribbed-tank-top-and-jeans-sitting-cross-legged-on.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=mVAF6ZITC6qKFErAdTszKIYypWOp8AT5PKJcmG_eqTk=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h2>💞 Don’t Isolate. Elevate.💞 </h2>Sis… strong don’t mean silent.Too many of us suffer in private, wearing pain like perfume and silence like armor. But isolation is where shame grows. And you ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of.You loved out loud. You showed up. You tried. And now, you deserve a community that holds you when you’re too tired to hold yourself.Surround yourself with women who get it. Women who won’t judge your breakdowns, who hype up your bounce-backs, and remind you of your divinity when you forget.This ain’t the season for suffering alone. This is the season for soul circles, sacred sisterhood, and safe spaces that pour into you.🖊️ SUPPORT SYSTEM PROMPT: List the five people who make you feel the safest to be raw and real. If you don’t have five, make it your mission to build that tribe.<h3>Self-Care Ain’t a Trend, It’s a Revolution </h3>Let’s be real: Black women have been taking care of everybody since forever. We carry it all. We heal the village. We bounce back from trauma like it’s normal.But baby, who heals the healer?Self-care isn’t optional. It’s a spiritual assignment. It’s revolutionary in a world that benefits from your burnout.And self-care ain’t always pretty. Sometimes it’s sleeping in. Turning off your phone. Telling folks “no” without the explanation. Sometimes it’s sitting with your own sadness, letting it wash over you, and trusting that peace is coming.Make your rituals holy. Light candles. Say affirmations. Dance half-naked in your room to Beyoncé and Mary J. Cry in the tub and then moisturize your soul.This ain’t fluff. This is survival. This is restoration. This is how we rise.🖊️ RITUAL PROMPT: What does your body, spirit, and soul need more of this month? How can you start giving it to yourself without guilt?<h3>Set the Vibe for What’s Next </h3>This ain’t the end of your story — it’s the beginning of your becoming.Set the vibe. Not just goals. Vibes. That energy you walk into every room with. That standard you hold even when nobody's watching. That vision of you that makes your younger self proud.Set boundaries so tight, disrespect can’t even breathe near you. Set intentions that match your worth. Set expectations that make room for only the divine.The love you want will find you, but right now? It’s about becoming the woman who knows she’s already full, already glowing, already whole.🖊️ FUTURE YOU PROMPT: Write a letter to the woman you’ll be 6 months from now. What does she look like, feel like, walk like? What did she have to let go of to become this version of herself?<figure id="figure-biikd6c8qmdan7ak4"><img id="biikd6c8qmdan7ak4" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1454686840/photo/clouse-up-gorgeous-woman-with-african-braids-dressed-in-top-walks-down-the-street-stylish.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=Km6Luo17msoStw7fgwiQPIcAGR_5UltBy-ljPjcXilY=" alt="Clouse-up, gorgeous woman with African braids dressed in top walks down the street. Stylish smiling girl looks at the upper floors of buildings." title="Clouse-up, gorgeous woman with African braids dressed in top walks down the street. Stylish smiling girl looks at the upper floors of buildings." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1454686840/photo/clouse-up-gorgeous-woman-with-african-braids-dressed-in-top-walks-down-the-street-stylish.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=Km6Luo17msoStw7fgwiQPIcAGR_5UltBy-ljPjcXilY=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>Final Word: You Didn't Break — You Bloomed </h3>Sis… your softness is still sacred. Your tears still count. What happened to you wasn’t the end — it was the awakening.You didn’t lose your power. You just gave it away. But now? You takin’ it all back. In stilettos or slides. With a candle lit or a blunt in hand. You are still sacred, still chosen, and still HER.This is your return. Your reclaiming. Your renaissance.So rise, Queen. Not because you have to… But because you were born to.&nbsp;Nightcap Thought: Before bed tonight, whisper this:"I release what hurt me. I honor what taught me. I am walking into my healing like a throne." Now close your eyes and rest, sis. You’re safe now. You’re coming back home to you.With grit, grace, and all the glory, — Coach E&nbsp;<figure id="figure-puieeh1tc5mdanl3fd"><img id="puieeh1tc5mdanl3fd" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/eAJBCg7k0m9ezFzqHR89I0tHqQLtyjFY32R1JcEDA8dZvWdzhD87FJI8sU6Ony37.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined" data-positionY="undefined" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>

Healing from Love: A Real One’s Journey Back to Herself

<h2>The Beautiful Complication Called Love… and the Grief That Comes With It </h2>Let’s get into it, Sis.Love and loss is no light conversation. They’re both deep—deep like ancestral prayers and late-night cries. One brings joy that makes your heart dance. The other brings grief that makes it shatter. But both? Both are a part of the human experience — especially for us women who love hard, deep, and without apology.See, love don’t just come to make us smile. It comes to teach us. To stretch us. To reveal the places where we still need healing — and the ones we never even knew were broken.And when that love walks away, or worse, is taken from us — it leaves a wound. Not just in our chest, but in our spirit. And nobody really teaches us how to sit with that. Especially not Black women. We’re taught to endure, to hold our heads high, to keep it pushing.But let me say this real clear: Loss deserves a pause. Your pain deserves a voice. And your story deserves to be told.🖊️ REFLECTION PROMPT: What is one moment of love or loss that changed the way you see yourself? How did it stretch you?<h3>Real Stories. Real Women. Real Love. </h3>You ever hear a story that made you feel like somebody had cracked your chest wide open and found your exact same pain or joy?That’s the power of our stories.From your auntie who still keeps photos of her first love to the couple down the block that’s been together 40 years — every one of us carries a story that holds weight. Some of those stories speak to the kind of love that grows roots. Love that lasted through distance, diagnosis, disapproval, and death. Love that wasn’t always pretty, but it was real.And in those stories, we see the blueprint — not just for how to love somebody else, but how to love ourselves through love. How to stay soft, stay open, and still honor your boundaries. How to weather storms and celebrate seasons. How to make love last — not just with another person, but with your own damn soul.🖊️ STORY PROMPT: Think about the most meaningful love you’ve witnessed — yours or someone else's. What did it teach you about partnership? About patience? About peace?<figure id="figure-amjypdb7odmdaop5ri"><img id="amjypdb7odmdaop5ri" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2210463045/photo/group-of-woman-who-fought-breast-cancer-showing-support-for-each-other.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=LTpC2TkVWLqkrvSNn-BQe8Jj4fgx6o5uySMX1jQ4BoQ=" alt="Group of woman who fought breast cancer showing support for each other" title="Group of woman who fought breast cancer showing support for each other" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: 50% 0%;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="50%" data-positionY="0%" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure><h3>When Love Leaves — the Ache You Can’t Outrun </h3>Let’s be real.We all know the kind of loss that don’t just hurt — it haunts. The kind that hits you while you're doing dishes or hearing "your" song on the radio. Loss don’t wait for the right time. It pulls up uninvited, loud, and stubborn. It don’t care if you’re busy. It don’t care if you’ve moved on. It shows up with all the memories and makes you feel like you’re drowning in "what was" and "what should’ve been."Whether it’s the end of a relationship, the death of someone you love, or the death of the dream you had with them — the grief is real. And just because time passes doesn’t mean it hurts any less. You just learn how to breathe through it.Some of us cry. Some of us go silent. Some of us pour that pain into our art, our kids, our work, our healing. There’s no right way to grieve. Just your way.🖊️ GRIEF PROMPT: Where in your body do you feel your grief the most? What does that part of you need today — touch, release, prayer, music, or stillness?<h3>Shared Grief, Shared Grace: We Are Not Alone </h3>One of the most powerful things we can do for ourselves is talk about it. Share the story. Let it breathe. Because when we keep our heartbreak locked away, it festers. It becomes shame.But when we share our stories — with our sisters, our elders, our journals, our ancestors — healing begins.Sometimes the most healing thing you can hear is: “Me too.” Sometimes the thing that saves you isn’t advice — it’s knowing someone else has walked this same fire and lived to tell it.Support groups, sacred circles, real conversations — they bring us back to each other. And back to ourselves.🖊️ COMMUNITY PROMPT: Who’s one person you trust enough to tell your full story — not the cleaned-up version, but the truth? If you don’t have that person yet, what kind of space do you dream of creating or joining to feel seen?<h3>The Medicine of Storytelling </h3>Let me tell you something our ancestors always knew: Storytelling is a sacred act.It ain’t just about memory — it’s about medicine. When we tell our stories, we reclaim our power. We pull wisdom from our wounds. We say, “This happened. I felt it. I lived it. And look — I’m still here.”And for Black women, telling our truth is an act of resistance and restoration. It’s how we preserve our lineage. How we stay connected to each other even when the world wants to silence our emotions, our rage, our tenderness, our love.When we speak — we free each other. When we write — we remember. When we cry out loud — we give others permission to stop pretending.🖊️ HEALING PROMPT: Write the first sentence of the story you’ve been afraid to tell. Don’t worry about the ending. Just begin.<figure id="figure-ilmhahwq9jmdaousxs"><img id="ilmhahwq9jmdaousxs" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2106855101/photo/african-friends-chatting-sitting-on-a-park-in-spring.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=1_Z26l-VevRSaQV5WIY7ikUFdo8LVraouOWMJinbebI=" alt="African friends chatting sitting on a park in spring" title="African friends chatting sitting on a park in spring" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 " style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="no-rounded" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2106855101/photo/african-friends-chatting-sitting-on-a-park-in-spring.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=1_Z26l-VevRSaQV5WIY7ikUFdo8LVraouOWMJinbebI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Embracing the Journey — All of It </h3>Love and loss. Joy and grief. Wholeness and heartbreak. It’s all part of this wild, beautiful, sacred journey we call being human — and even more so, being a Black woman who feels everything but still stands.Let’s stop pretending these experiences are separate. Let’s stop trying to heal in silence or prove we’re “over it” too fast.The truth is: You can miss them and not want them back. You can love again and still honor what you lost. You can cry today and laugh tomorrow.It’s both/and, not either/or. That’s the richness. That’s the lesson. That’s the freedom.🖊️ CLOSURE PROMPT: What are you ready to let go of — not because it didn’t matter, but because you matter more?<h3>&nbsp;Final Word: You’re Allowed to Feel It All </h3>Sis, if nobody told you today: Your love was real. Your pain is valid. And your healing is holy.You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to be honest — with yourself, with your story, and with the next chapter you’re writing.Let every tear, every memory, every ache be alchemy.And when you’re ready — when it’s time — Love again. But this time, start with you.&nbsp; Still sacred. Still here. Still rising. — Coach E<figure id="figure-rm5r51nxhbmdaokt8u"><img id="rm5r51nxhbmdaokt8u" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/eAJBCg7k0m9ezFzqHR89I0tHqQLtyjFY32R1JcEDA8dZvWdzhD87FJI8sU6Ony37.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/eAJBCg7k0m9ezFzqHR89I0tHqQLtyjFY32R1JcEDA8dZvWdzhD87FJI8sU6Ony37.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>

Understanding Love and Loss: A Journey Through Personal Stories

<h2>Word: MOVE. </h2>Not when it feels safe. Not when the doors fly open and the coins line up. Not when you’ve stopped crying or the trauma finally makes sense. No.MOVE when God whispers, “This ain’t your resting place.” Even if your knees still wobble from the last breakdown. Even if you’re tired of starting over. Even if the only direction you know is away from here. Because staying still will slowly bury you in a place you were only supposed to pass through.Some moves are messy. They don’t come with closure or clarity. You just know — you can’t stay here.That’s how I moved. From Minnesota to Georgia. Broke in ways money can’t fix. Full of unanswered prayers and unresolved pain. I didn’t move because I had it together. I moved because my spirit was suffocating and I knew if I didn’t get out, I would spiritually die in a place I no longer belonged to.So I moved. And I named my car Naomi.<figure id="figure-hegrd82oymab5a22u"><img id="hegrd82oymab5a22u" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/17dVsnNwdRLothgCCSlV6ZGaNAebcDZwgf9Cfu52JgElnbI4Xk8UCxcQtod8ieDf.png" alt="Young woman praying to god with the bible." title="Young woman praying to god with the bible." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: 10% 20%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionx="10%" data-positiony="20%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/17dVsnNwdRLothgCCSlV6ZGaNAebcDZwgf9Cfu52JgElnbI4Xk8UCxcQtod8ieDf.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: 10% 20%;"></figure><h3>Let Me Tell You Why That Name Matters. </h3>I didn’t fully know the story. Not in depth. Not like I do now. But something in me whispered, “She moved too.”Later I learned Naomi was a woman in the Bible who had lost everything. Her husband. Her sons. Her identity. Her hope.She had left her hometown of Bethlehem during a famine. Moved to a foreign land called Moab. Tried to survive. Tried to hold her family together. Tried to rebuild in a place that was never meant to sustain her for long.And then everything around her died.She lost her man. Then her sons. And what she had left? Bitterness. Grief. Two daughters-in-law. And not much else.She looked at her life and said,"Don’t call me Naomi anymore. Call me Mara. &nbsp; Because God has made my life bitter."She renamed herself in the middle of her pain.And you know what makes her radical?She still moved.<h3>Let That Sink in. </h3>She didn’t move when things got better. She didn’t move when she was healed. She didn’t move when her faith was strong.She moved while she was bitter. She moved while she was broken. She moved without a plan, a husband, or a penny to her name.She moved because something in her said, “Even this can’t be the end.”You ever been there?Ever left a place not because you knew where you were going, but because you knew you couldn’t stay where you were?That’s the Naomi anointing. And I didn’t realize it, but I was living in it. Every time I cried while driving. Every time I questioned why I moved. Every time I felt like Georgia was giving me more battles than blessings.And yet — something in me said: Keep moving.🔥 WRITING PROMPT #1 What did you leave behind that still haunts you? Write it out. Every name, place, heartbreak, lie, or version of yourself that you buried when you moved forward. Let yourself feel what you tried to outrun.<figure id="figure-64k4dexmkmab5ea9j"><img id="64k4dexmkmab5ea9j" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/20WdCUVOrgAax6FOyKYI5MsMpGKO8GSBtbnxZLpdNaWsG5kxpowXrK9rb14QLL7r.png" alt="Heaven." title="Heaven." class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: 50% 20%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="3:2" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="20%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/20WdCUVOrgAax6FOyKYI5MsMpGKO8GSBtbnxZLpdNaWsG5kxpowXrK9rb14QLL7r.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: 50% 20%;"></figure><h3>Naomi Wasn’t Weak. She Was Wisdom in Motion. </h3>We don’t talk enough about the strength it takes to move while mourning. To be honest about your pain, and still choose to rebuild.Naomi came back to Bethlehem broken. She told her truth out loud:“The Lord brought me back empty.”Empty. No kids. No man. No joy.And yet — there was still a seed in her. A whisper of redemption. Enough strength to guide Ruth. To give counsel. To speak strategy. To keep showing up even while she still grieved.Some of you reading this have been Naomi and didn’t even know it. You’ve been showing up for others while secretly unraveling. Putting your kids on the right path while silently questioning your own. Pouring into everyone else while you feel completely depleted inside.And still — you keep moving. That’s radical obedience. That’s divine fire. That’s faith in motion.&nbsp; 🔥 WRITING PROMPT #2 Where in your life have you shown up even when you felt empty? List every moment you kept going — not because you felt strong, but because you refused to stop. Then honor yourself. That’s your evidence.<figure id="figure-3uvztn95j5mab5iznm" class=""><img id="3uvztn95j5mab5iznm" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1aTGOBclaFiXMuWGTweDAujuPtyj9mwOuFxkqRAVmomZO8USTy9Rr75DRp109mtK.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: 50% 40%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="3:2" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="40%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1aTGOBclaFiXMuWGTweDAujuPtyj9mwOuFxkqRAVmomZO8USTy9Rr75DRp109mtK.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: 50% 40%;"></figure><h3>Redemption Didn’t Find Naomi Sitting Still — It Found Her in Motion. </h3>Don’t miss this: Naomi didn’t just survive grief. She mothered a miracle.She poured into Ruth. She advised her on how to move with intention. She positioned her for alignment with Boaz — not because she was looking for a man, but because she recognized legacy was on the line.Naomi’s radical decision to move — even in bitterness — positioned her to birth a blessing that would change the entire course of history.Obed. Then Jesse. Then David. Then… generations later — Jesus.All from a woman who thought she had nothing left.So the next time you question whether your suffering is for nothing, remember Naomi. Remember yourself.&nbsp; 🔥 WRITING PROMPT #3 What if your most bitter season is actually carrying your biggest legacy? Write a letter to the next generation. What do you want your children, godchildren, or future lineage to know about how you kept going?<h3>You Are Naomi. And Baby, You Are the Storm. </h3>Let me say this plain: You didn’t survive what you did just to blend in. You didn’t bury pieces of yourself just to be soft-spoken and safe.You moved because you had to. You moved while your heart was still leaking. You moved when people thought you were crazy — hell, when you thought you were crazy. And that’s what makes you dangerous.Because you didn’t need applause. You didn’t need a cheer squad. You didn’t even need clarity. You just needed that inner push. That gut-wrenching whisper from God that said:“Get up. Go forward. There’s more.” And you listened.You are Naomi in real time. Not just because you’ve suffered — but because you refused to stay stuck in your suffering. Because you’re still guiding. Still rising. Still moving with tears in your eyes and truth in your belly.Let them talk. Let them doubt you. Let them think you’ve lost your mind.They don’t know your wilderness is preparing somebody else’s deliverance.You don’t just carry your own redemption — You are carrying the seed of a new generation’s breakthrough. And baby, even if you don’t see the fruit yet — don’t stop moving. Because your legacy is already in motion.<figure id="figure-y17zmz2ilmab7bl51" class=""><img id="y17zmz2ilmab7bl51" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/dr2yjLvMTJjJGXaYGyhulBzWZewPbE4RpPuz3bLZE7RCnfG3qJUfQhCvXwhp9iG3.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: 50% 15%;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="3:2" data-caption="" data-positionx="50%" data-positiony="15%" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/dr2yjLvMTJjJGXaYGyhulBzWZewPbE4RpPuz3bLZE7RCnfG3qJUfQhCvXwhp9iG3.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 3/2; object-position: 50% 15%;"></figure> 🔥 FINAL WRITING PROMPT Write a prayer, poem, or promise to your future self. Start with: “When I wanted to give up, I remembered…” Speak life back into your own bones. Bless your own damn journey. Because from this point on, you don’t just move — you move with purpose.With truth, boldness, and radical faith,— Coach EVICTIM RETRIBUTION NETWORK | EBONY UNAPOLOGETIC﻿

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