Blog

Rusty Heart Shape is Demolishing and Collapsing

<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 be honest: the world has never made space for Black women to truly be safe. From the moment we enter this world, we are told to be strong, resilient, and unbreakable. But where has that strength gotten us when it comes to protection, justice, and safety?The truth is, there has never been a moment in history where the fight was truly about protecting us. Not in the courts, not in the streets, not even in the systems meant to serve justice. And the constant mistreatment and abuse of Black women is a testament to that neglect.Let’s dig deeper into this, because it’s time to ask the hard questions—and it’s time to demand change.<figure id="figure-c0xn7oh3uam6hza83o"><img id="c0xn7oh3uam6hza83o" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1321242525/photo/studio-shot-of-an-attractive-young-woman-using-a-megaphone-against-a-blue-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=oBIaxjLXzeO1G6IUKEmIh4U2E5IoIAi3_Zf9EHF96TM=" alt="Studio shot of an attractive young woman using a megaphone against a blue background" title="Studio shot of an attractive young woman using a megaphone against a blue background" 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/1321242525/photo/studio-shot-of-an-attractive-young-woman-using-a-megaphone-against-a-blue-background.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=oBIaxjLXzeO1G6IUKEmIh4U2E5IoIAi3_Zf9EHF96TM=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>The Violence Black Women Face</h3>Black women are among the most vulnerable to violence, yet our stories are often ignored, dismissed, or forgotten.Domestic Violence: Black women experience intimate partner violence at disproportionately high rates. And when we do speak up, we’re often met with doubt or judgment instead of support.Sexual Assault: Our pain is often minimized. We’re told to “move on,” or worse, we’re blamed for what happened to us.Police Violence: Black women face police brutality too, but our names rarely make the headlines. We’re fighting the same systems of oppression, yet our stories are often an afterthought.Missing Women: Thousands of Black women and girls go missing every year, and their cases barely get media coverage. Families are left to investigate on their own because the system simply doesn’t care enough to look for us.This isn’t just neglect—it’s systemic violence.<h3>Why Are We Ignored?</h3>So why does the world turn a blind eye to Black women’s suffering?1. StereotypesSociety loves to paint Black women as strong, angry, and invulnerable. These stereotypes dehumanize us, making it easier for people to ignore our pain.2. Historical NeglectFrom slavery to segregation to modern-day discrimination, Black women have been at the bottom of the social hierarchy. We’ve been conditioned to believe that our safety doesn’t matter—and so has everyone else.3. Systemic RacismThe justice system was never designed to serve us. Our cries for help are met with indifference, and our cases are pushed to the bottom of the pile.4. PatriarchyViolence against women is often dismissed as a “private matter” instead of being treated as the societal crisis it is. And when race is added to the equation, the level of disregard multiplies.The result? A society where Black women are left to fend for ourselves, even in the face of unimaginable harm.<figure id="figure-lwk3iw7l4xm6hzd2b4"><img id="lwk3iw7l4xm6hzd2b4" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1491890282/photo/fighting-for-humanity-womans-clenched-fist-rises-in-front-of-a-group-of-many-people-blurred.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=Rweujmo92zOAebX2hKfWdirMJXFdmMoRpRpQP5o8lOY=" alt="Fighting for humanity: woman's clenched fist rises in front of a group of many people, blurred into abstraction" title="Fighting for humanity: woman's clenched fist rises in front of a group of many people, blurred into abstraction" 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/1491890282/photo/fighting-for-humanity-womans-clenched-fist-rises-in-front-of-a-group-of-many-people-blurred.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=Rweujmo92zOAebX2hKfWdirMJXFdmMoRpRpQP5o8lOY=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>The Cost of Neglect</h3>The constant mistreatment of Black women doesn’t just harm us—it harms everyone.The Harmed: We carry the weight of trauma while the world expects us to keep moving forward as if nothing happened.The Perpetrators: Without accountability, those who harm us are free to harm again.The Community: When Black women are unprotected, the ripple effects touch every part of society. We are the backbone of our families and communities, yet our safety is treated as expendable. This isn’t just about individual cases—it’s about a systemic failure that leaves all of us worse off.<h3>The Need for Change</h3>Sis, the fight to protect Black women is long overdue. We can’t wait for the world to decide we’re worthy of protection—we have to demand it.Here’s what needs to happen:1. Center Black Women’s VoicesOur stories matter. Our experiences matter. It’s time to amplify them and refuse to be silenced.2. Demand AccountabilityFrom law enforcement to the judicial system, we must hold institutions accountable for their neglect of Black women.3. Invest in HealingWe need resources that focus on healing Black women—mentally, emotionally, and physically.4. Build Community SupportWhen the system fails, we have to support each other. That means creating spaces where Black women can feel safe, heard, and empowered.<h3>Writing Exercise: Reflecting on Protection and Support</h3>If you’re ready to engage in this fight, start by reflecting on these questions:1. What Does Protection Look Like?Write about what it would mean to feel fully protected as a Black woman.2. How Have You Experienced Neglect?Reflect on a time when you felt unprotected or unheard. How did it impact you?3. What Role Can You Play?Think about how you can support the safety and well-being of Black women in your community.4. Who Are the Protectors in Your Life?Identify the people or spaces that make you feel safe. How can you expand that network for others?5. Affirm Your WorthWrite this affirmation: I am worthy of protection, respect, and love. My safety and my voice matter.<figure id="figure-7rwzfhj05cm6hzhx71"><img id="7rwzfhj05cm6hzhx71" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/918938866/photo/good-teams-become-great-ones-when-they-support-each-other.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ZtQXn_Nt3Zo_FoAjHvjhhVxDn5Y3sK8RiUS2PHxjNZg=" alt="Good teams become great ones when they support each other" title="Good teams become great ones when they support each other" 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/918938866/photo/good-teams-become-great-ones-when-they-support-each-other.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=ZtQXn_Nt3Zo_FoAjHvjhhVxDn5Y3sK8RiUS2PHxjNZg=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h2>Supporting the VRN</h2>If this resonates with you, I urge you to support the Victim Retribution Network (VRN).The VRN is dedicated to uplifting and empowering Black women and girls who have been harmed. We’re fighting for a world where our stories are heard, our safety is prioritized, and justice is truly served.You can help by:<ul><li>Donating: Every contribution supports our mission to protect and advocate for Black women.</li><li>Volunteering: Join us in building a network of support and resources.</li><li>Spreading the Word: Share our mission and encourage others to join the fight.</li></ul>Together, we can create a world where Black women are valued, protected, and celebrated. Learn more and get involved at [insert link or details here].<h3>Final Thoughts</h3>Sis, the fight for Black women’s safety isn’t just our fight—it’s everyone’s fight. It’s about creating a society where no one is left behind, where no harm goes unanswered, and where every voice matters.Let’s keep pushing. Let’s keep speaking. And let’s build a future where Black women don’t just survive—we thrive.With love and fire,Coach E ❤️

Unprotected and Undervalued: The Fight to Protect Black Women

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; ✨💛

Understanding Trauma: Breaking Free & Healing Loudly

Nature, freedom and peace hand sign by woman at sunset  in the countryside, happy and content while traveling, Portrait, grass and black woman having fun on road trip, taking break in rural landscape

Let me pull you aside for a second. Not in judgment, but in love. You came to me, you said you wanted to heal, you wanted to grow, and you wanted to leave all the old pain behind. And Sis, I’m here for all of that. But let’s be honest—healing requires truth. Real, raw, unfiltered truth.I’m not talking about the version you’ve been telling your friends, the one where you sprinkle in just enough detail to make yourself the hero. I’m talking about the version that keeps you up at night. The one you don’t want to say out loud because even you don’t want to believe it. That’s the truth we need to talk about.<figure id="figure-l2ol4zffwem5ibcp2e"><img id="l2ol4zffwem5ibcp2e" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1066626706/photo/moment-of-truth.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=Mv46nDlUbxVpkGTCP-LEEQRHJQL6Lh9u7nqScI5Q4D0=" alt="Moment of truth" title="Moment of truth" 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/1066626706/photo/moment-of-truth.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=Mv46nDlUbxVpkGTCP-LEEQRHJQL6Lh9u7nqScI5Q4D0=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>The Weight of Denial </h3>We carry so much, don’t we? As Black women, we carry the weight of the world on our backs—our families, our communities, the expectations of being “strong.” And somewhere in all that carrying, we learn how to tuck our own truths away. We convince ourselves it’s easier to hold on to the lies than to face the pain.But here’s the thing about denial: it doesn’t actually protect you. It keeps you stuck. It keeps you in a cycle where the same patterns show up, the same people hurt you, and the same lessons knock on your door, louder and louder, until you have no choice but to listen.Sis, don’t let denial rob you of your healing.<h3>Why We Lie to Ourselves </h3>Let’s call it what it is: self-preservation. We lie to ourselves because the truth feels like too much to bear.<ul><li>“He didn’t really mean to hurt me.”</li><li>“I stayed because I loved him.”</li><li>“I didn’t have a choice.” </li></ul>We create these narratives to survive, to cope, to make sense of the senseless. And while those lies may have served you in the moment, they can’t come with you on this healing journey.<figure id="figure-w86hgojgyfm5ibew6m"><img id="w86hgojgyfm5ibew6m" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/670564652/photo/lies-truth-wooden-signpost.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=8z3thWyQYMUx0oKCBKJGZkI3Xfanq-G_7FsEyAx-eWc=" alt="Lies, truth - wooden signpost" title="Lies, truth - wooden signpost" 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/670564652/photo/lies-truth-wooden-signpost.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=8z3thWyQYMUx0oKCBKJGZkI3Xfanq-G_7FsEyAx-eWc=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h2>My Journey with Truth </h2>Sis, let me get real with you for a minute. This isn’t just a concept or some abstract advice I’m throwing out here—this is my life. And let me tell you, the truth has not always been easy for me to face. In fact, there was a time when I thought avoiding it would somehow make the pain go away. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.I struggled to come to terms with my son’s conception for years. What happened to me, what I let happen—that’s what I told myself—was something I thought I could bury. I didn’t want to be a victim. I didn’t want to be that woman, the one who let something like that happen to her. I told myself I was stronger than that, wiser than that. But the truth was, I wasn’t invincible.The night it happened, I thought I was just out enjoying myself. An afterset with people I thought I could trust. People I thought I was safe around. But when the reality of what happened hit me, I didn’t know how to process it. So, I blamed myself.<ul><li>I shouldn’t have been there.</li><li>I should’ve been at home with my kids.</li><li>Why did I wear that? Why did I drink? Why did I trust them? </li></ul>Every question, every ounce of blame, I turned inward. I made drastic changes in my life—I stopped going out, I changed the way I dressed, I tried to be “better.” But none of it stopped the storm that was raging inside me.<h3>When the Truth Came Back Around </h3>I thought I had it under control. I thought if I just moved on, the truth would stay buried. But Sis, the truth has a way of resurfacing when you least expect it.When the DNA test came back and my son wasn’t my partner’s, everything unraveled. All the emotions I had suppressed came flooding back. The guilt, the shame, the anger—at them, at the world, but mostly at myself.I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. And I couldn’t keep running from my truth.<figure id="figure-ugctcpcubm5ibh530" class=""><img id="ugctcpcubm5ibh530" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1445503069/photo/handwritten-bible-quote.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=OXxVwYsf-KV59K7okzgyhhnJsGty6_gjN63FCW69uFI=" alt="Handwritten Bible quote" title="Handwritten Bible quote" 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/1445503069/photo/handwritten-bible-quote.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=OXxVwYsf-KV59K7okzgyhhnJsGty6_gjN63FCW69uFI=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Owning My Truth </h3>When I finally decided to be honest—with myself and with those around me—everything changed. It wasn’t easy. Owning my truth meant revisiting the pain, feeling it all over again, and sitting with it instead of pushing it away.But it also meant freeing myself.I started to realize that what happened to me wasn’t a reflection of my worth. It wasn’t because I was a bad mom, or because I made the wrong choices, or because I wasn’t good enough. It happened because someone else made a choice to harm me.And Sis, that realization? It was like taking my power back.<h3>Walking in Your Truth </h3>There’s something so powerful about stepping into your truth. It’s like shedding old skin, dropping the weight of denial, and finally standing tall in who you are.When you walk in your truth:<ul><li>You stop worrying about what other people think.</li><li>You stop carrying shame that doesn’t belong to you.</li><li>You give yourself permission to heal, grow, and evolve.</li></ul><figure id="figure-vmwg1c5ubm5ibkxec"><img id="vmwg1c5ubm5ibkxec" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1445202787/photo/nature-freedom-and-peace-hand-sign-by-woman-at-sunset-in-the-countryside-happy-and-content.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=1hFXfyzysh6G6H367dJAVk6z_YxTEDh-DOF1-3bILfw=" alt="Nature, freedom and peace hand sign by woman at sunset in the countryside, happy and content while traveling, Portrait, grass and black woman having fun on road trip, taking break in rural landscape" title="Nature, freedom and peace hand sign by woman at sunset in the countryside, happy and content while traveling, Portrait, grass and black woman having fun on road trip, taking break in rural landscape" 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/1445202787/photo/nature-freedom-and-peace-hand-sign-by-woman-at-sunset-in-the-countryside-happy-and-content.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=1hFXfyzysh6G6H367dJAVk6z_YxTEDh-DOF1-3bILfw=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>A Writing Exercise for Your Truth</h3><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(18px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));" data-mce-style="font-family: inherit; font-size: calc(18px * var(--body-fontSize, 1)); font-weight: inherit; font-style: var(--body-fontStyle, normal); background-color: rgba(249,250,251,var(--tw-bg-opacity));">This one’s for you, Sis. Grab your journal and carve out some quiet time. Let’s get to the heart of your truth.<ol><li>The Story You Tell Yourself: Write about a situation in your life that still weighs on you. Be honest about the version of the story you’ve been telling yourself.</li><li>The Real Truth: Now, dig deeper. What’s the truth you’ve been avoiding? How does it feel to confront it?</li><li>Your Next Step: Reflect on what this truth is teaching you. How can you use it to heal and move forward?</li><li>End with this affirmation:My truth is my power. I face it with courage, and I release what no longer serves me.</li></ol><h3>The Power of Truth </h3>Sis, the truth isn’t always pretty, but it’s always worth it. It’s the foundation of healing, the key to freedom, and the bridge to your best self.So stop running. Stop hiding. Stop lying to yourself. The truth is calling you—and when you answer, you’ll realize you’ve had the power all along.With love &amp; a whole lot of truth, Coach E💛

The Truth Shall Set You Free

<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;">They say a mother’s love is unconditional, but what happens when it’s not there? When the love you needed as a child is absent, replaced by pain, manipulation, and neglect?For me, that’s where my story starts—with a mother who couldn’t love the way I needed her to. My mom battled demons—drugs, alcohol, and mental health issues that were never addressed. Growing up in foster care from as young as three, I didn’t have the foundation most children cling to. Instead, I had a mother who used her pain as a shield and her struggles as an excuse.She was manipulative, abusive, and distant. I was left to fend for myself and care for my siblings while she disappeared for days at a time, chasing her high. When she was home, the love was still missing—no “I love yous,” no hugs, no warmth. Just the cold reality of survival.And yet, here I am, a mother myself, determined to give my daughters a love I never had.<figure id="figure-ykeembxj8mm5cr651q"><img id="ykeembxj8mm5cr651q" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/10LyjidzQkQ7ss6q2JcsxcNbznTpmPVWDs2CEv9WpyXRF2RK5gvLzCMoiTZusf5S.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: undefined undefined;" 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/10LyjidzQkQ7ss6q2JcsxcNbznTpmPVWDs2CEv9WpyXRF2RK5gvLzCMoiTZusf5S.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h2>The Struggle of Learning to Love</h2>Let me tell you, sis, it wasn’t easy. Showing affection didn’t come naturally to me. How could it, when affection was something I’d never known?When my kids were little, it felt easier. Babies need cuddles, kisses, and care—it’s instinctual. But as they got older, I realized that saying “I love you” and showing affection weren’t habits I’d developed. I had to make a conscious decision to change that.I never wanted my daughters to question whether they were loved. I wanted them to hear it, feel it, and know it in their bones. So I made it a habit. I tell them I love them every day. I hug them even when it feels foreign to me.Because I know what it feels like to grow up without that love, and I refuse to pass that legacy on to my daughters.<figure id="figure-z7n8qauzzmm5cs1yqw"><img id="z7n8qauzzmm5cs1yqw" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/227NGzyqtn77eKvlY3FeNZYQmPK39YYR8r0ZQI6RvEnZc5e8WoO0aePIGpIqrijO.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/227NGzyqtn77eKvlY3FeNZYQmPK39YYR8r0ZQI6RvEnZc5e8WoO0aePIGpIqrijO.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Rewriting the Narrative</h3>My relationship with my daughters is everything my relationship with my mom wasn’t.We’re close. We talk. We laugh. They tell me about their day, random things they saw, and even things I don’t always want to hear. And I remind myself every day to embrace it.Sometimes, I catch myself getting annoyed when they want to tell me something “random” or have long conversations about things that don’t seem important. But then I stop. I remind myself that this is normal. This is what a healthy relationship between a mother and her children looks like.So I lean into it. We do art projects, cook together, do nails, paint, have game nights, and go on daughter dates. We laugh until our stomachs hurt and create memories I know they’ll carry with them.This is the love I wish I’d had. This is the love I give them.<figure id="figure-8231u70sdm5cs6pec"><img id="8231u70sdm5cs6pec" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/2dSHTMBWwL1S97JsdPf1NzSSitXgPNQKYhew6v0Q7LVPPvNt5x6TCdwILXA7IqvK.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/2dSHTMBWwL1S97JsdPf1NzSSitXgPNQKYhew6v0Q7LVPPvNt5x6TCdwILXA7IqvK.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Understanding My Mother’s Pain</h3>As much as I’ve grown, I’ve also worked to understand my mother’s pain. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s been necessary.I know my mom had unresolved trauma. I believe something happened to her as a child—something that was swept under the rug, leaving her silenced and broken. I believe those wounds pushed her toward drugs, which only deepened the divide between her and the world.She’s been clean for years now, but I see the remnants of her pain in her behavior. When conversations get too deep, she slips into a baby voice—a defense mechanism that irritates everyone but speaks volumes to me. I don’t believe it’s just the drugs; I think it’s something deeper.I’ve come to understand that her inability to love wasn’t about me. It was about her. Her pain, her trauma, her unresolved issues. And while I’ve worked to forgive her, I’ve also made peace with the fact that she may never be able to give me the love I wanted.<figure id="figure-shlhhwq1mom5csbc8b"><img id="shlhhwq1mom5csbc8b" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/1bdTbXAZWYEef4BqHbkxFr3Y7ZbDYTJRXnBBvEne4dQ60yKhUi76v48pfKRbe1Gf.jpg" 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/1bdTbXAZWYEef4BqHbkxFr3Y7ZbDYTJRXnBBvEne4dQ60yKhUi76v48pfKRbe1Gf.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Choosing to Love Anyway</h3>Being a mother is hard, but being a mother who didn’t have a mother’s love is a challenge I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Still, I’ve made a choice: to love my daughters fiercely, intentionally, and unconditionally.I’ve chosen to rewrite the story. To break the cycle. To be the mother I needed when I was a child.Because while a mother’s love wasn’t there for me, it’s here now—in every hug, every “I love you,” every laugh, and every moment I show up for my daughters.<figure id="figure-kn33kaapiam5cs87tf"><img id="kn33kaapiam5cs87tf" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/362o9K7GIfXwDnncyLoCzRuAqwcwaFL3cgQfGNpV92jn9NARkf8vnrKbngz0aoyf.jpg" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-sm md:rounded-md lg:rounded-lg" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: undefined undefined;" 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/362o9K7GIfXwDnncyLoCzRuAqwcwaFL3cgQfGNpV92jn9NARkf8vnrKbngz0aoyf.jpg" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h2>A Writing Exercise: Healing the Inner Child</h2>If you’ve ever struggled with a lack of love from your mother, here’s an exercise to help you heal:1. Write a Letter to Your Inner ChildSpeak to the little girl inside you who needed love but didn’t get it. Tell her what she needed to hear.2. Write a Letter to Your MotherSay everything you wish you could say to your mother—whether it’s anger, sadness, or understanding. You don’t have to send it; this is for you.3. List the Love You GiveReflect on the ways you show love to your children (or others in your life). Celebrate how you’ve broken the cycle.4. Affirm Your HealingEnd with an affirmation: I am enough. I give the love I never received, and I am healing every day.<h2>Real Talk</h2>Sis, it’s not easy to mother when you’ve never been mothered. But let me tell you—you’re doing it. You’re showing up, breaking cycles, and giving your children a love that will carry them through life.Your past doesn’t define you. Your mother’s pain doesn’t define you. You are writing a new story, one filled with love, resilience, and healing.And that? That is the most beautiful kind of love.With Love &amp; Understanding&nbsp;Coach E 💜&nbsp;

A Mother’s Love: Finding What Wasn’t There

<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 talk about conviction. A woman with conviction is a force to be reckoned with. She’s unapologetic, rooted in her values, and firm in her truth—even when the world tries to shake her. Let me tell you about a woman I know like the back of my hand: me.My journey has been anything but smooth. Life has thrown curveballs, heartbreak, and moments that could have broken me. But through it all, I stood firm. Not because I’m perfect—far from it—but because I refuse to let anyone or anything rob me of my purpose.<figure id="figure-kz654pa1m5cous8f"><img id="kz654pa1m5cous8f" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/895996698/photo/we-can-only-learn-from-our-failures.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=7e-vpPM3gBXyQmyOtP1Z_3eePLm-wufUlHPky5rJiGU=" alt="We can only learn from our failures" title="We can only learn from our failures" 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><h2>Conviction Looks Like Knowing Who You Are</h2>A woman with conviction isn’t just confident—she’s clear. She knows who she is, what she stands for, and what she’s not willing to tolerate. For me, that clarity came from pain.I’ve been hurt, betrayed, and underestimated. I’ve had people question my decisions, dismiss my feelings, and try to dim my light. But you know what? Every time they tried to break me, I came back stronger.Being a woman with conviction means knowing that your worth isn’t tied to anyone else’s opinion. It’s about standing tall in your truth, even when it’s uncomfortable or unpopular.<h3>Conviction Looks Like Holding Boundaries</h3>Let me tell you something: boundaries are a love language. They’re how you protect your peace, honor your values, and show yourself respect.For me, setting boundaries hasn’t always been easy. I’ve had to walk away from people I loved, say no when it hurt, and put myself first when it felt unnatural. But what I’ve learned is this: a woman with conviction doesn’t compromise on her peace.You can’t pour from an empty cup, sis. And if someone can’t respect your boundaries, they don’t deserve access to you. Period.<figure id="figure-qpfyrplg5bm5covle3"><img id="qpfyrplg5bm5covle3" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1437254959/photo/fear-sad-or-depression-of-a-young-woman-sitting-with-depressed-expression-or-thinking-of-a.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=IDkefZVcZfn34q0es-k7uVsB1E_OB98Jf18zVS5z8oQ=" alt="Fear, sad or depression of a young woman sitting with depressed expression or thinking of a problem. Worried and alone african American woman after a bad fail, anxiety or mental health issues" title="Fear, sad or depression of a young woman sitting with depressed expression or thinking of a problem. Worried and alone african American woman after a bad fail, anxiety or mental health issues" 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/1437254959/photo/fear-sad-or-depression-of-a-young-woman-sitting-with-depressed-expression-or-thinking-of-a.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=IDkefZVcZfn34q0es-k7uVsB1E_OB98Jf18zVS5z8oQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;"></figure><h3>Conviction Looks Like Fighting for What Matters</h3>Being a woman with conviction isn’t just about saying no—it’s also about saying yes to the things that matter. It’s about showing up for your purpose, your family, and your community.For me, that means fighting for justice and healing—not just for myself, but for the women and families around me. It’s about standing up for what’s right, even when it feels like the world is against you.Conviction gives you the courage to speak up, even when your voice shakes. It’s what drives me to create spaces where women can heal, find their strength, and step into their power.<h3>Conviction Looks Like Grace</h3>Here’s the thing about conviction: it doesn’t mean you have to be harsh or unforgiving. True conviction comes with grace. It’s knowing that you can be strong without being mean, firm without being cold.I’ve had moments where I wanted to lash out, to match someone’s disrespect with my own. But being a woman with conviction means choosing kindness—not for them, but for you. It means knowing that your energy is too precious to waste on people who don’t deserve it.<figure id="figure-ytusit3o28m5cozct3"><img id="ytusit3o28m5cozct3" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/628506916/photo/here-to-work-and-thats-what-im-going-to-do.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=EgmpvX8khMfWcFrr1CnSJmkL706o1OSzWPwIuHo60wQ=" alt="Here to work and that’s what I’m going to do" title="Here to work and that’s what I’m going to do" 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/628506916/photo/here-to-work-and-thats-what-im-going-to-do.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=EgmpvX8khMfWcFrr1CnSJmkL706o1OSzWPwIuHo60wQ=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;"></figure><h3>A Writing Exercise: Finding Your Conviction</h3>If you’re ready to step into your power, here’s a journaling exercise to help you connect with your conviction:1. Define Your ValuesWhat do you stand for? What matters most to you? Write it down.2. Reflect on Your BoundariesWhere in your life do you need to set or reinforce boundaries? Who or what is testing your peace?3. Commit to Your PurposeWhat are you passionate about? How can you fight for what matters most to you?4. Embrace Your GraceWrite about how you can show kindness and strength at the same time.5. Affirm Your ConvictionEnd with an affirmation: I am a woman with conviction. I stand firm in my truth, honor my values, and protect my peace.<h2>Real Talk</h2>Sis, being a woman with conviction isn’t easy. It takes courage, clarity, and an unshakable belief in yourself. But let me tell you—it’s worth it.The world needs women who know who they are, what they stand for, and what they’re not willing to accept. Women like you. Women like me.So stand tall, sis. Speak your truth. Protect your peace. And never, ever let anyone dim your light.With Love &amp; Conviction&nbsp;Coach E 💜

Blog

Unprotected and Undervalued: The Fight to Protect Black W...

When Strength Feels Heavy: The Truth About Carrying It All

Understanding Trauma: Breaking Free & Healing Loudly

The Truth Shall Set You Free

A Mother’s Love: Finding What Wasn’t There

A Woman with Conviction: Standing Firm in Your Truth