In this entry, I confronted the truth: I’ve confused being chosen with being cherished. I opened up about how my dad’s absence shaped a blueprint for love that trades my effort for someone else’s comfort. Now I’m stuck in a relationship where I give everything—money, energy, even my body—and receive hope as repayment. I’m beginning to realize that wanting more doesn’t make me ungrateful, it makes me awake.

In today’s diary entry, I talk about a man I liked… and how liking someone doesn’t mean they’re meant for you. I reflect on how far I’ve come after surviving an abusive relationship, only to realize that some men—even the ones who say they’re “of God”—will still treat you like a side quest.

From ghosting to groping to gaslighting me during a breakdown, this story spirals and rises all the way back to ME reclaiming my power. I also ask the question every real one faces after being done dirty: Slutty? Classy? Or both?

This one’s for anyone who’s been manipulated, dismissed, or used—but got back up and went to the movies anyway. By herself. Like the queen she is.

Oh, and yes—he looks like a tub of butter.

This episode honors the kind of growth that often goes unnoticed—making practical decisions, facing discomfort, and choosing to try. It’s about those small, everyday actions that signal a shift in mindset: asking better questions, taking responsibility, and doing things that once felt too big. For anyone who’s ever doubted their progress because it didn’t look dramatic—this is a reminder that becoming doesn’t need an audience.

Trigger Warning: This episode contains discussions of physical and emotional abuse, sexual coercion, narcissistic parenting, suicidal thoughts, and trauma response. Please listen with care.

Yesterday, everything cracked open. From an intense conversation at the salon about abuse and manipulation, to an explosive moment with my mother where I finally named my own trauma—I went through a personal earthquake. This episode is unedited, emotional, and deeply personal.

I share what it felt like to be silenced, dismissed, and gaslit by the one person who should have protected me. I also share how I stopped myself from spiraling, reached out to my chosen family, and finally put a name to the narcissistic patterns that have shaped my life.

This episode is about grief, survival, clarity, and choosing not to become the version of pain that raised you. If you’re healing, if you’ve been hurt, or if you’re simply trying to understand yourself better—this is for you.

Let me know what resonated with you most. You can connect with me and others in the Discord space. And if you’ve purchased from my Redbubble store, feel free to share how the designs helped you on your journey.

We’re becoming—together.

In this moment of sacred unraveling, I speak from the place beneath thought—where art becomes a vessel and stillness becomes a sermon. Without planning, I painted. Without intention, I wrote. And in doing so, I met my soul. I realize now that God doesn’t only speak through scripture or struggle—He also speaks in silence, in brushstrokes, in the truths we’re finally brave enough to feel.

In this raw and stirring reflection, I grapple with the heaviness of waiting for the good that’s coming while still haunted by old wounds. With humor, conviction, and unfiltered honesty, I reclaim my days through faith, routine, and emotional truth. This episode is a reminder that healing isn’t about pretending the past didn’t happen—it’s about walking forward with intention anyway.

On Resurrection Sunday, I reflect not only on the miracle of Christ rising from the dead but on the quiet miracles in my own life—like the gift of female friendship. In this episode, I’m learning to stop idolizing romantic love and start valuing the soul-deep connection I share with women who love me like God does—unconditionally, joyfully, and without performance. I remind myself (and my future self) that I’m never alone, and sometimes healing comes wrapped in laughter, yapping, and unexpected generosity.

In this episode, I confront the weight of growing up too soon in a single-parent household, where responsibility and emotional labor were handed to me before I could even name them. As I now begin to choose myself, nourish my body, and live from a place of faith, I’m finally seeing what love without guilt looks like. This is both a mourning and a liberation—a declaration that I am enough, and I no longer have to prove my worth to be loved.