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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?<figure id="figure-xaetmu2qhm9edwvqb" class="selected"><img id="xaetmu2qhm9edwvqb" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1346876100/photo/sunset-with-orange-clouds-over-the-forest.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=_cfInC1nIBfr9YNnBIrooZgrkVlzEFQwPhT52u66zvE=" alt="Sunset with orange clouds over the forest" title="Sunset with orange clouds over the forest" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg selected" 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://media.gettyimages.com/id/1346876100/photo/sunset-with-orange-clouds-over-the-forest.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=_cfInC1nIBfr9YNnBIrooZgrkVlzEFQwPhT52u66zvE=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>When Staying “Safe” Left Me Stuck </h3>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?<h3>Choosing to Walk by Faith </h3>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.&nbsp; &nbsp;<figure id="figure-cblzci4b7m9ee8cf6"><img id="cblzci4b7m9ee8cf6" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/8iZhUKhY8ms9ZmIaptunSkQFaeUrLFS7KKWczab3QHjLo62Sr5dtFDXg0jdI3gmZ.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/8iZhUKhY8ms9ZmIaptunSkQFaeUrLFS7KKWczab3QHjLo62Sr5dtFDXg0jdI3gmZ.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Redefining Happiness and Success on My Terms </h3>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?<h3>Choose Your Light Over Your Pain </h3>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.<figure id="figure-xzwia745pm9eebz01"><img id="xzwia745pm9eebz01" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/700763898/photo/believe-in-yourself-written-on-notepad.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=v3ZB4VNXI2J8_V1y-wF0bYS19bmcZ1Q9wOjdJXjxrCI=" alt="Believe in Yourself written on notepad" title="Believe in Yourself written on notepad" 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://media.gettyimages.com/id/700763898/photo/believe-in-yourself-written-on-notepad.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=v3ZB4VNXI2J8_V1y-wF0bYS19bmcZ1Q9wOjdJXjxrCI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>&nbsp;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 <a href="mailto:ek.vrn@wordsbye.com" data-mce-href="mailto:ek.vrn@wordsbye.com">ek.vrn@wordsbye.com</a>.&nbsp; You’re not alone on this journey—we’re waking up and walking in purpose together. ❤️

Even I Had to Wake Myself Up

They told us love would fix everything. That if we just gave enough of it, or found the right man to pour it into us, the pain would fade. That love could erase trauma, silence the past, and save us from ourselves.But what happens when love ain’t enough?What happens when the man who says “I love you” is also the one who broke you? What happens when your love for your kids keeps you pushing, but you still feel empty inside? What happens when love doesn’t feel safe—because your idea of love came from people who never really knew how to give it?For so many Black women, love has been a battlefield. We’ve been taught to fight for it. Sacrifice for it. Stay silent for it. And somehow, we still end up abandoned, overlooked, or misunderstood. But sis, the gag is—love is not the cure. At least not the way they told us it would be.Let’s peel this back. Let’s unlearn what never served us and replace it with truth, intention, and a healing path that actually leads to freedom.<figure id="figure-fd5wzqi1bjm9e8asp1"><img id="fd5wzqi1bjm9e8asp1" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1048803738/photo/theres-no-such-thing-as-too-much-glitter.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=GSbrOXKw2f7dJI1GIApDBfbYfowaifH3Ovol5XD6lQk=" alt="There's no such thing as too much glitter!" title="There's no such thing as too much glitter!" 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"/></figure><h3>The Myth of “Love Heals All”: Why That Narrative Hurts More Than It Helps</h3>They made it sound so sweet, didn’t they? That fairytale of love being the thing that saves you. That if you just held on long enough—if you loved hard enough—he would change. You would feel whole. Life would get lighter.But the truth is, love without healing is just emotional debt. And we’ve been overdrafting ourselves in relationships that were never equipped to carry our wounds.When I was deep in my trauma, I clung to love like it was a lifeline. I thought it would be the thing that pulled me out of the darkness. But it ended up dragging me deeper because I didn’t realize I was still bleeding—and expecting someone else to stop the bleeding without even knowing where the wound was.That’s why this myth is so dangerous. Because it keeps us stuck. It makes us believe that if the love fails, we failed. It convinces us to settle for crumbs, to stay in cycles, to betray ourselves just to feel wanted.Love is sacred, yes. But it was never meant to be the whole medicine.Journal Prompt: Have you ever used love to avoid doing the real healing work? What was the cost? What did it teach you about what love cannot do?&nbsp;<h3>Communication Is the Real Love Language—Not Just Words, But Vulnerability</h3>You can say “I love you” a hundred times and still not be heard.Real love—healing love—requires truth-telling. Not just surface-level check-ins. I mean gut-level, throat-choking, heart-wrenching truth. And most of us never learned how to do that safely.We weren’t raised to be emotionally fluent. We were raised to be “strong.” So we hold things in, suppress what we need, and show up like we’re fine even when we’re falling apart. We don’t communicate—we cope. We don’t connect—we perform.But sis, vulnerability is not weakness. It’s the bridge between love and healing. Without it, love stays in our heads instead of moving into our hearts. And that’s why so many of us feel unloved even when we’re partnered.When I started communicating from a healed place—not begging, not blaming, just being honest—everything shifted. My friendships got deeper. My relationship with my kids softened. And most importantly, my relationship with myself became sacred.Writing Prompt: What is one truth about your needs, fears, or desires that you’ve been too afraid to say out loud? Write it down without judgment.&nbsp;<figure id="figure-bdq53d22scm9e8unlj"><img id="bdq53d22scm9e8unlj" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1338851474/photo/shot-of-a-young-woman-writing-in-her-journal-at-the-beach.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=mQPN0dv8MIRzrDoyIjiiz2gBT6Ti-P8ujCRqI1Dgbe8=" alt="Shot of a young woman writing in her journal at the beach" title="Shot of a young woman writing in her journal at the beach" 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/1338851474/photo/shot-of-a-young-woman-writing-in-her-journal-at-the-beach.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=mQPN0dv8MIRzrDoyIjiiz2gBT6Ti-P8ujCRqI1Dgbe8=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>Coaching Is Not Weakness—It’s a Power Move for Healing</h3>Let’s kill this idea that needing help makes us weak. Especially in a world that gaslights Black women into thinking we’re only valuable when we’re self-sufficient.The first time I sought coaching, I was desperate. Lost. Drowning in responsibility, trauma, and guilt. I didn’t need someone to rescue me—I needed someone to help me resurrect me. That’s what coaching did. It gave me tools, reflection, and strategy. But more than that—it gave me permission to be human.Holistic healing through coaching changed everything. It helped me address not just my mindset, but my energy, my habits, my boundaries, and my spiritual alignment. Coaching helped me stop reacting and start responding. It pulled me out of survival mode and reintroduced me to peace.And now? I coach other women through the same transformation. Because healing shouldn’t be reserved for people with privilege. It should be accessible, sacred, and ours.Reflection Prompt: If you had a coach right now who could help guide you back to your center, what’s the first thing you’d want to unpack or explore?&nbsp; <h3>Self-Love Ain’t Just Baths and Candles—It’s Boundaries, Inner Work, and Fire</h3>Social media turned self-love into aesthetics. Pretty bubble baths. Face masks. Vacations. But self-love is warfare, baby. Especially when you grew up in chaos, abuse, or neglect. Loving yourself in a world that profits off your low self-worth is a radical act.Self-love is leaving the room when it’s no longer safe for your spirit. It’s checking your own toxic traits. It’s telling your inner child, “You were never the problem.” It’s creating rituals that pour back into you after the world drained you dry.For me, self-love looked like writing myself out of despair. It looked like turning off my phone to pray and breathe. It looked like holding my babies and telling them, “We breaking the cycle.”Self-love is not a moment—it’s a movement.Self-Love Prompt: What’s one thing your healed self would no longer tolerate? What boundary can you set today in honor of that version of you?&nbsp; <h3>Understanding Love Languages: Your Healing Might Speak a Different Dialect</h3>Some of us were taught to love loud—but received love silently. Others were raised on survival, not affection, so even a small “I see you” can feel like a hug.Knowing your love language—and your partner’s—is not just about romance. It’s about emotional fluency. It’s about safety. Understanding that you need words of affirmation, or acts of service, or physical touch, or quality time—it gives your healing a voice. It teaches you how to ask for what nourishes you.When we don’t know our love language, we accept whatever’s offered. When we do know it, we can start curating our environment and relationships around the kind of love that actually restores us.Love can be present but still feel empty when it’s being spoken in the wrong language.Healing Prompt: What’s your primary love language? Are you honoring it for yourself first—or only expecting others to meet it for you?&nbsp; <h3>Let Go of the Fantasy—Set Real Expectations and Watch Real Love Bloom</h3>Real healing requires us to release the fantasy. Not just of love, but of ourselves.You will not be the perfect partner. They will not be your savior. Healing will not be linear. Love will not always be easy. And that’s okay. Because the most beautiful, sustainable relationships are built on truth—not performance.When I finally let go of what I thought love should look like, I made space for what it actually could be. Messy. Tender. Intentional. Mutual. Healing.That’s when everything changed. Because I wasn’t looking for a hero. I was walking in my own healing—and attracting people aligned with that vibration.You don’t need love to complete you. You need healing to unleash you.Final Prompt: Write a new definition of love based on your healing—not your pain. What does aligned, soulful love feel like to you now?<figure id="figure-333o7g12gjm9e99ls7"><img id="333o7g12gjm9e99ls7" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1414026322/photo/african-couple-hugging-pensive-girl-looking-in-the-distance-while-touching-her-boyfriend.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ZM2lbLf4LOWwddJMCKgvp3TMDuGosYCL_HOE0CVSJKw=" alt="African couple hugging, pensive girl looking in the distance while touching her boyfriend outside. Young feminine afro woman in doubt holding her man while thinking about her relationship problems" title="African couple hugging, pensive girl looking in the distance while touching her boyfriend outside. Young feminine afro woman in doubt holding her man while thinking about her relationship problems" 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://media.gettyimages.com/id/1414026322/photo/african-couple-hugging-pensive-girl-looking-in-the-distance-while-touching-her-boyfriend.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ZM2lbLf4LOWwddJMCKgvp3TMDuGosYCL_HOE0CVSJKw=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure> <h3>Final Words from Coach E: Love Ain’t the Destination—Healing Is</h3>You don’t need to be fixed—you need to be felt. Fully. Softly. Unapologetically.Love is beautiful, but it’s not the bandage. Healing is. And when you start loving yourself from the inside out, love becomes the overflow—not the goal. Real love will find you in that space. But it starts with you choosing you—over and over again.At Ebony Unapologetic and VRN, we don’t just talk healing—we walk it, breathe it, build it. We offer coaching, journaling, collective support, and soul-deep space for women like you to rise. Not in perfection, but in truth.Because healing Black women is revolutionary. And you, sis? You’re part of that revolution.&nbsp; 💕 Feeling this? Join a journaling circle. Come through to Sister Sunday. Book a coaching session with Coach E.Let’s rebuild the village, together. Email me at ek.vrn@wordsbye.com

The Truth About Love & Healing: What Actually Works for Black Women

Milwaukee raised me with battle scars. But it also raised me with brilliance.This blog post ain’t your typical feel-good self-help piece. It’s for the women who’ve been overlooked, underestimated, and overwhelmed—but still show up anyway. It’s for the ones who carry trauma in their chest but still sing lullabies to their babies. It’s for the mothers, daughters, survivors, and soul seekers who’ve been told to “be strong” when all they really needed was a safe space to fall apart and rebuild.This is for you. And me. And all of us who are tired of surviving and ready to thrive—even in a city like Milwaukee, where the odds are stacked and the system ain’t never really been for us.<h3>The Unseen Weight: Societal Pressure on Black Women in Milwaukee </h3>Let’s be real—being a Black woman in Milwaukee hits different. This city don’t just hand you pressure, it piles it on layer by layer. From the second we step outside, we’re navigating expectations we never agreed to. Be strong—but not angry. Be smart—but not threatening. Be nurturing—but not soft. Be successful—but don’t forget to raise the kids, pay the bills, and stay humble.And when you don’t check all the boxes? They label you. Loud. Lazy. Bitter. Ghetto. Unstable.But what they don’t talk about is what it feels like. That pressure that creeps into your spirit when your child comes home crying because the school labeled her as “aggressive” for speaking up. That weight in your chest when your daughter's safety was violated and the system chose to protect her abuser. That sick feeling when you realize the people in power ain’t built to protect girls that look like yours.We carry that. And we’re supposed to smile through it?Nah. Not anymore.Reflection Prompt: What societal expectations have you been carrying that don’t belong to you? Whose voice are you still trying to prove wrong? Write it down. Then cross it out.<figure id="figure-vsizqalfxm9dnhakn"><img id="vsizqalfxm9dnhakn" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1336311181/photo/shot-of-a-young-businesswoman-against-a-studio-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=EF7SFm34emp_EWktmWp9hoVaNu89vaaRrS2XX2aHy4A=" alt="Shot of a young businesswoman against a studio background" title="Shot of a young businesswoman against a studio background" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="large" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1336311181/photo/shot-of-a-young-businesswoman-against-a-studio-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=EF7SFm34emp_EWktmWp9hoVaNu89vaaRrS2XX2aHy4A=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3> When Community is Survival: Why We Need More Than Just Support </h3>People love to talk about “the power of community,” but they don’t talk enough about how necessary it is for Black women in cities like ours. When you’re fighting invisible battles—trauma, mental health, systemic neglect—community ain’t just helpful. It’s essential.For years, I thought I had to do it all alone. I was raising five kids, surviving domestic abuse, going to school, working, and fighting for justice for my daughter—on my own. But isolation was killing me slowly. That’s when I realized: I didn’t need people to save me. I needed people who could see me.That’s why I started building my own community. Through Words By E, the VRN, and Ebony Unapologetic, I created spaces that felt like exhale. Where we don’t have to shrink. Where we can be soft and strong. Where healing looks like storytelling, breathwork, and shared tears over journal prompts that crack us open.Milwaukee has community. But we gotta be intentional about where we place ourselves. Not all gatherings are sacred. Not all folks are for your healing.Writing Prompt: Who do you feel safest around? What makes them feel like home to you? If you don’t have that space yet, describe what it would look like if it did exist. <h3>Culture, Conflict, and Creation: Milwaukee is the Mirror and the Muse </h3>This city carries trauma in its bones—but it also carries soul.Milwaukee is where my pain turned into purpose. It’s where I was betrayed, ignored, and left to fend for myself. But it’s also where I learned how powerful my voice really was. It’s where Sister Sundays were born. It’s where I held my daughter in one arm while holding a court document in the other, refusing to let the system silence me.From the lakefront to Locust, from Sherman Phoenix to the alleyways of the North Side, Milwaukee is a place of contrast. You can find healing in a drum circle one day and heartbreak in a courtroom the next. And that duality—though heavy—is what makes this city such a powerful place for transformation.We have to start seeing Milwaukee not as a curse but as a mirror. It reflects what still needs healing, but it also reveals who we are when we decide to rise anyway.Reflection Prompt: What part of your city reflects your journey right now? What places bring you peace? What places trigger you? Explore why.<figure id="figure-5plua5dcdjm9dnkqns"><img id="5plua5dcdjm9dnkqns" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2167168985/photo/aerial-view-of-downtown-milwaukee-on-a-sunny-summer-day-wisconsin.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=zDDb10T3WFtVhpyVYjSg3l0Aw2HDkjvXl1hSqefN57U=" alt="Aerial view of Downtown Milwaukee on a sunny summer day, Wisconsin" title="Aerial view of Downtown Milwaukee on a sunny summer day, Wisconsin" 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/2167168985/photo/aerial-view-of-downtown-milwaukee-on-a-sunny-summer-day-wisconsin.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=zDDb10T3WFtVhpyVYjSg3l0Aw2HDkjvXl1hSqefN57U=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3> &nbsp;Real-World Strategies for Growth When the Odds Are Stacked </h3>Let’s not just talk about the pain. Let’s talk about the plan.Because despite everything Milwaukee has thrown at me—every betrayal, every courtroom disappointment, every “you should just let it go”—I found a way to turn the chaos into clarity. Not overnight, and not without setbacks. But with intention, alignment, and truth.Here are strategies that kept me from sinking:<ul style="list-style-type: square;" data-mce-style="list-style-type: square;"><li>Radical Self-Awareness: You have to know where you’re at to know where you’re going. Journaling saved me. It helped me name the emotions before they drowned me.</li><li>Rest as Rebellion: You’re not lazy. You’re exhausted. Rest ain't weakness—it’s a weapon. Take your nap. Block that number. Skip that event.</li><li>Boundaries that Stick: Stop betraying yourself for the comfort of others. If it costs your peace, it's too expensive.</li><li>Connect with Aligned People: You don’t need a crowd. You need connection. Find one person who sees the real you and build from there.</li></ul>Coaching Prompt: Write a list of things that have drained you in the last 30 days. Then write a list of what poured back into you. What needs to shift?<h3>&nbsp;This Ain’t Just Growth—It’s a Whole Rebirth </h3>Personal growth ain't cute. It's messy. It’s screaming on the bathroom floor. It’s court dates and CPS threats and anxiety attacks at midnight. But it’s also clarity. It’s God whispering in your ear when the world gets too loud. It’s holding your child’s hand and realizing you broke a generational curse without even knowing it.My path didn’t get easier. I just got wiser. More aligned. More grounded in the woman I’m becoming and less ashamed of who I was.Milwaukee didn’t hand me peace. I had to build it brick by brick—with journal entries, tears, affirmations, and all the strength I didn’t even know I had.And I’m telling you now—you can too.Healing Prompt: What’s one moment in your life that felt like a breaking point—but ended up being a turning point? Write that story from a place of power.<h3>In Closing: Keep Walking—Even When It Feels Like Nobody’s Watching </h3>If nobody else told you this today, hear it from me—you are not crazy. You are not weak. You are not too much. You are called, sis. You are chosen. And you are needed.Milwaukee might never apologize for the pain it caused you. The judge may never admit they were wrong. The system may never change fast enough. But that doesn’t stop your healing. That doesn’t stop your purpose. That doesn’t stop the movement we’re building for ourselves and our daughters.Keep walking. Even when it’s hard. Even when it’s dark. Even when it’s lonely. Because somewhere along this path, you’re going to meet the version of you that survived all of it—and she’s gonna look back and say, “Damn sis… you really did that.”<h3>✨ Did this resonate with you? </h3>Follow Coach E, join a Sister Sunday, or tap into one of our healing collectives. To get connected, send contact info to <a href="mailto:ek.vrn@wordsbye.com" data-mce-href="mailto:ek.vrn@wordsbye.com">ek.vrn@wordsbye.com</a>.&nbsp; Let’s build this village—for real. One story at a time.

Unapologetically Me: Thriving Through the Pressure in Milwaukee

Romantic couple enjoy mountain view in cave

<figure id="figure-qtxsakqkdwmdavwttf"><img id="qtxsakqkdwmdavwttf" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2185756674/photo/loving-african-american-couple-looking-at-each-other-in-bed.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=lVXGcn3_PBLqz2TjjeHcueqfSP9xwj0HyH3cZ3wsEI8=" alt="Loving African American couple looking at each other in bed" title="Loving African American couple looking at each other in bed" 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" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2185756674/photo/loving-african-american-couple-looking-at-each-other-in-bed.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=lVXGcn3_PBLqz2TjjeHcueqfSP9xwj0HyH3cZ3wsEI8=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Some betrayals don’t come from enemies.</h2>They come from people who once knew your heart… Who you laughed with. Prayed with. Broke bread with. Who sat front row to your suffering but still chose to mishandle you.There’s a special kind of pain in being wounded by someone who knew your scars. Not because they didn’t understand you — but because they did, and they used that knowledge to slice even deeper.This is about those relationships that felt sacred until they weren’t. The ones that turned cold and calculated. The ones that left you wondering, “Was any of it real?”This ain’t about dragging nobody. It’s about telling the truth. And healing from it.<h3>The Sting of Being Mocked in Your Most Vulnerable Moments </h3>There’s a silence that settles over you when someone you trusted… turns.Not physically, not always loudly — but spiritually. Emotionally. It’s the shift in tone. The sly comment. The twisted smirk when you’re opening up about your trauma. The way they bring up the darkest parts of your past, not to support your healing — but to shame you for surviving it.And the part that cuts the deepest? They knew better. They knew what you were fighting. They saw how hard you worked to keep your head above water. And they still chose ego over empathy. Jokes over justice. Power over peace.Let’s be honest: that type of betrayal is spiritual warfare.When someone minimizes your pain, or worse — laughs at your survival story — that ain’t love. That’s cruelty dressed up in familiarity.<h3>Gaslighting &amp; Emotional Manipulation: When Reality Gets Distorted </h3>One of the hardest parts of betrayal is the mental fog it leaves behind.You start second-guessing your own story. You replay conversations. You start wondering if you’re the problem. That’s gaslighting, sis. And it’s real. Especially when it comes from someone close.They deny the things they said. They rewrite history. They call you “dramatic” or “too sensitive” — all to avoid accountability. And for a while, you may even believe them.But deep down… your spirit knows. Your body remembers. Your heart don’t lie.If your nervous system feels unsafe around someone you once trusted, that’s not a coincidence. That’s your intuition. That’s God, your ancestors, and your higher self all saying: This ain’t alignment anymore.<figure id="figure-tku26jpv6fmdb2rs2c"><img id="tku26jpv6fmdb2rs2c" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1660950957/photo/scissors-cutting-note-paper-with-handwritten-toxic-friendship-refers-to-friends-who-leave.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=uGHDMTsHaD4IJ6iU_MQafG06Udcx2d7Y8iKFssYQKH8=" alt="Scissors cutting note paper with handwritten TOXIC FRIENDSHIP, refers to friends who leave negative effects - mentally energy drain and bring down emotionally" title="Scissors cutting note paper with handwritten TOXIC FRIENDSHIP, refers to friends who leave negative effects - mentally energy drain and bring down emotionally" 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/1660950957/photo/scissors-cutting-note-paper-with-handwritten-toxic-friendship-refers-to-friends-who-leave.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=uGHDMTsHaD4IJ6iU_MQafG06Udcx2d7Y8iKFssYQKH8=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Love Doesn’t Excuse Harm — Even When It’s Familiar </h3>We love hard. That’s just what we do. We hold space. We give grace. We root for people even when they stop rooting for us.But sometimes love becomes a leash.We hold on, hoping they'll change. Hoping they’ll remember the old version of themselves. Hoping the connection means something. But at what cost?Sis, love without reciprocity becomes martyrdom. And you weren’t born to be nobody’s emotional punching bag — not even the person you once saw as “your person.”You can forgive someone and still choose you. You can grieve the loss and still close the door. You can remember the good and still honor the bad.Closure don’t come from conversations. It comes from clarity.<h3>Stop Trying to Convince People Who Already Made Up Their Mind </h3>One of the biggest mistakes we make is thinking if we explain ourselves better, they’ll finally “get it.” But let’s be real:People already know when they’ve hurt you. They just don’t want to be held accountable for it.So you keep trying to be understood by someone committed to misunderstanding you. And that… is a slow spiritual death.Free yourself from that loop.They don’t need to agree with your truth for it to be valid. They don’t need to apologize for you to heal. They don’t need to come back for you to rise.Let the door stay closed. Let silence be your boundary. Let growth be your goodbye.<figure id="figure-tiqlc1p6iomdb4b2ch"><img id="tiqlc1p6iomdb4b2ch" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1144494230/photo/motivational-and-inspirational-quote.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=L3hXDmfRnEcJDtRyEO5Z7F_JcUyv4FJlh7C2UTqJiWM=" alt="Motivational and inspirational quote." title="Motivational and inspirational quote." 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><h3>Healing Means Calling Back All the Power You Gave Away </h3>There’s no shame in how much you loved them. In how long you stayed. In how hard you tried to explain the storm inside you hoping they’d help you weather it.But now it’s time to come back to you.To reclaim the softness they tried to harden. To rebuild the trust they shattered — starting with yourself. To forgive yourself for not seeing it sooner. For seeing it and still choosing to believe their potential instead of their patterns.This isn’t bitterness. It’s truth-telling. It’s boundary-setting. It’s becoming your own safe space after realizing the one you built with them was never truly yours.&nbsp;Writing Exercise: Soul Reflection Take some quiet time. Light a candle. Breathe. And write.<ol><li>What’s one thing you wish they would’ve understood about your heart — but never did?</li><li>What’s one way their actions taught you how to better protect your peace moving forward?</li><li>What part of yourself are you reclaiming now that the connection has ended?</li></ol>&nbsp;You are not bitter for telling your truth. You are not mean for walking away. You are not crazy for remembering the moments others want you to forget.You are healing. And healing requires truth. Even the ugly kind.Still soft. Still sacred. Still rising. — Coach E<figure id="figure-1c12s6zckmmdaxh77u"><img id="1c12s6zckmmdaxh77u" 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" data-mce-src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/eAJBCg7k0m9ezFzqHR89I0tHqQLtyjFY32R1JcEDA8dZvWdzhD87FJI8sU6Ony37.png" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure>

When the Ones You Trust Cut the Deepest: Letting Go of People Who Know Better But Choose Not to Do Better

3d render, balancing balls placed on scales or weigher, isolated on blue background

<span style="background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity)); font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); font-weight: inherit;" data-mce-style="background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity)); font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(16px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); font-weight: inherit;">Sis, let’s keep it all the way real. Being the “strong one” sounds good until you’re the one carrying the weight. People love to throw around phrases like, “You’re so strong,” but rarely do they stop and ask, “Sis, how are you really holding up?”Let me tell you—sometimes that strength feels like a whole damn boulder on your back. And honestly? It gets heavy.<figure id="figure-sxa96df6oam6i1mnla"><img id="sxa96df6oam6i1mnla" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2007594847/photo/sisyphean-task-under-a-fiery-sky.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=musWFC91ka6Oe4HWeYCxt8DbBzXMBIbcfz6y9m1zxC4=" alt="Sisyphean Task Under a Fiery Sky" title="Sisyphean Task Under a Fiery Sky" 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/2007594847/photo/sisyphean-task-under-a-fiery-sky.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=musWFC91ka6Oe4HWeYCxt8DbBzXMBIbcfz6y9m1zxC4=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>The Weight of Strength</h3>From the outside, people see a boss—a woman who’s got it all together, always on her game, always showing up. But what they don’t see is the toll it takes. They don’t see the sleepless nights, the silent tears, or the moments you’re sitting in your car, parked in the driveway, taking a deep breath before walking into yet another situation that needs you.Strength is beautiful, but it can also feel suffocating.And here’s the thing: it doesn’t come with a manual. Nobody tells you how to carry it without breaking. Nobody teaches you how to let people in when you’ve been taught to just “handle it.” So, you keep going. You keep pushing. Until one day, you look up, and it’s too much.<h3>The Lie We’ve Been Sold</h3>For too long, we’ve been told that strength means silence. That showing emotions is weak. That asking for help is out of the question. And let’s be real—some of us have been carrying that lie like it’s a badge of honor.I used to think I had to be the rock for everyone. That if I crumbled, the whole foundation would collapse. But sis, let me tell you something: strength isn’t about pretending you’re invincible. It’s about knowing when to say, “I’m not okay.”You don’t have to do it all. You don’t have to be everything to everyone.<h3>Vulnerability is Power</h3>I know, I know. Vulnerability sounds like one of those self-help buzzwords that makes you roll your eyes. But listen—there’s power in letting people see the real you.The day I let my guard down and told someone, “I can’t handle this alone,” was the day I finally started to breathe again. Because here’s the truth: being strong doesn’t mean you have to do it all by yourself.When you let people in, you give them the chance to show up for you. And sis, you deserve to be shown up for.Vulnerability doesn’t weaken you—it frees you.<figure id="figure-d459wpc20km6i1olry"><img id="d459wpc20km6i1olry" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1015961436/photo/balance.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=N4g6FgHtXxD4ZbzRED2UH-S4ZNk7bXcCzkY2C-ZC0dg=" alt="balance" title="balance" 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/1015961436/photo/balance.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=N4g6FgHtXxD4ZbzRED2UH-S4ZNk7bXcCzkY2C-ZC0dg=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Putting Yourself First</h3>Let’s be real. When you’re the strong one, you’re used to showing up for everyone else. But when was the last time you showed up for you?Sis, self-care is not just bubble baths and candles. It’s saying no to things that drain you. It’s creating boundaries that protect your peace. It’s choosing to rest without guilt because you’ve earned it.You can’t pour from an empty cup, and you shouldn’t have to.Start small: take five minutes to breathe, write down your thoughts, or even just sit in silence. The point is to remind yourself that you matter too.<h3>Redefining Strength</h3>Let’s flip the script on what strength really means.Strength isn’t about being unbreakable—it’s about being real. It’s about letting yourself feel, letting yourself rest, and letting yourself heal. Sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is say, “Not today.”Sis, you don’t have to carry it all. You don’t have to keep pretending you’re okay when you’re not. Put the weight down. Take a breath. Give yourself permission to just be.<h3>A Writing Exercise: Laying Down the Weight</h3>If you’re feeling the weight of being the strong one, here’s an exercise to help you let it go:1. Name the WeightWrite down everything you’re carrying right now. Be raw. What’s keeping you up at night?2. Ask for HelpPick one thing on that list you can delegate or share. Who can help lighten your load?3. Set a BoundaryWhat’s one thing you can say no to this week? Say it loud and proud: “Not today!”4. Celebrate Your StrengthWrite about what you’ve overcome. Give yourself credit for being the incredible, resilient woman you are.5. Affirm Your PowerEnd with an affirmation: I am strong, but I don’t have to carry it all. I choose rest, peace, and support.<figure id="figure-3njnh45dfm6i1qqr2"><img id="3njnh45dfm6i1qqr2" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1924683855/photo/you-only-fail-when-you-stop-trying.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=f5x9xnOog-AfcKRhd8z3_4tmzx4eC7hvWKeFz7RqKKQ=" alt="You only fail when you stop trying" title="You only fail when you stop trying" 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><h3>Final Thoughts</h3>Sis, being strong is a blessing and a burden. But you don’t have to carry it all alone. You don’t have to keep proving yourself to people who already know you’re incredible.True strength isn’t in the weight you carry—it’s in knowing when to let it go. It’s in asking for help, setting boundaries, and putting yourself first without apology.So today, put the weight down. Take a deep breath. You’re strong, but you’re also human. And that’s more than enough.With love,Coach E ❤️

When Strength Feels Heavy: The Truth About Carrying It All

Sis, let’s talk about trauma. Not just the word, but the weight of it. The way it sits in our spirit, shifts our energy, and sometimes makes us feel like we’re stuck in survival mode. Trauma ain’t just “going through something”—it’s the deep, soul-shaking experiences that leave a mark on our mind, body, and spirit. It can come from abuse, neglect, betrayal, violence, loss, or even moments we don’t fully understand until later.But here’s the truth—you don’t have to stay bound by what hurt you. Healing is a process, a fight, a journey—and I’m walking it with you. Let’s break this down together.<h3>How Trauma Shows Up in Your Life </h3>Trauma has a slick way of showing up, sometimes loud, sometimes real quiet. It doesn’t always look like breaking down crying—it can be:<ul style="list-style-type: square;" data-mce-style="list-style-type: square;"><li>Feeling anxious or on edge for no reason</li><li>Shutting down emotionally when things get too real Snapping on folks over small things.</li><li>Feeling like you gotta be strong all the time (because being weak was never an option)</li><li>Distrusting people, even when they mean well</li><li>Feeling stuck, like you ain’t really living, just existing </li></ul>EXERCISE: SELF-CHECK MOMENT ✍🏾 📝 Grab your journal or your notes app—write down the moments when you feel most overwhelmed, anxious, or shut down. What triggered that feeling? What were you thinking? Understanding your patterns is the first step to reclaiming your peace.<h3>Triggers: The Unseen Chains </h3>A trigger is anything that brings back that pain like it just happened yesterday. It could be a song, a smell, a place, a tone of voice—something that takes you right back to the moment when you felt small, unsafe, or unseen.But listen to me: triggers don’t own you. They’re just road signs, pointing you toward what still needs healing. And the more you recognize them, the more power you take back.EXERCISE: TAKE BACK YOUR POWER 🛑 📝 Write down 3 things that trigger you. Next to each one, list one way you can take control when it happens (breathing, grounding, walking away, affirmations—whatever feels good to you).Example: Trigger: Loud arguments Response: Remind myself, “I am safe. I am in control. The past is not my present.”<h3>&nbsp; Healing Ain’t Pretty, But It’s Powerful </h3>Healing is messy. It’s ugly crying at 2 AM, it’s feeling good one day and broken the next, it’s wanting to give up but choosing yourself anyway. But you know what else? Healing is also freedom.You don’t have to do it alone either. Therapy, mindfulness, journaling, community—all of it helps. And your healing is YOURS. You set the pace, you write the rules, you decide what you need.EXERCISE: WHAT DOES HEALING LOOK LIKE FOR YOU? 💡 📝 Close your eyes for a second and imagine your healed self. How does she walk? How does she speak? What does she no longer tolerate? Write a letter to her from your current self. Tell her you’re coming for her.<h3>&nbsp; Sis, You Are Not Alone </h3>One of the biggest lies trauma tells us is that we gotta go through it alone. But listen to me: you deserve safe spaces. You deserve people who see you, who hold you up, who remind you that your past doesn’t define you.If you don’t have that yet, let’s build it. Find your people. Join support groups. Go to therapy. Follow pages that pour into you (and unfollow anything that drains your spirit).EXERCISE: BUILD YOUR SUPPORT SYSTEM 🌱 📝 List 3 people (or spaces) you can turn to when you need to feel safe. If you don’t have them yet, write down one step you’ll take to start finding your tribe.<h3>&nbsp; The Journey to Reclaiming YOU </h3>Healing from trauma isn’t about erasing what happened—it’s about choosing to no longer let it control you. You are not what happened to you. You are what you choose to become.You are worthy of peace. You are worthy of joy. You are worthy of love—especially from yourself.EXERCISE: FINAL REFLECTION 💖 📝 What’s one promise you’re making to yourself on this healing journey? Write it down and say it out loud. This is YOUR moment to take back what’s yours.✨ Drop a comment or share one of your reflections with me—let’s heal loud together! ✨Sis, you are not just surviving. You are rising. And I see you.&nbsp;With love and fire, Coach E&nbsp; ✨💛

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