I began writing this newsletter in September 2023. It was right after a sparkling series of events that gave me hope again. More than just a glimmer, these collections of transformative moments over a week span lifted me to a new frequency. I was able to shed layers that had been overburdening me. I examined what was being released and I could see with fresh eyes the whole story in a different light.
It was then that I turned to writing as I stepped out of that arena of grief. Writing was cathartic. I wrote to find myself. It helped me stitch myself back together. Surprisingly, I saw it as a path that allowed me to hear my own thoughts and more importantly find my truth. Word by word, I found my way back to my heart. Writing revealed the dark corners along the way. It revealed the memories I was resisting to look at, but those I needed to tend to heal properly. It allowed me to break the silence. And once I started to hit “publish,” I noticed that it also helped me connect with others.
Then life grew full and at times overwhelming. A cross country move, a new job, family obligations, and countless demands tugged at my attention. As a result I stopped writing and I stopped sharing. I stopped putting myself “out there.” That silence never felt true. So here I am, several months later, choosing to reclaim this part of myself. Choosing to begin again.
Today, I begin again with a poem.
Sovereignty
There was a time when my voice was silenced
by someone else’s storm—
when my heart forgot
it belonged to me.
But now,
I gather the broken pieces
and build a throne upon safety.
My soul sisters stand beside me—
to cheer me forward,
to remind me of my strength.
Sovereignty is not loud.
It does not beg to be believed.
It is the steady flame that whispers:
I choose my peace.
I choose my joy.
I choose my life.
No one rules here but me—
not the past,
not the pain,
not the echo of cruelty.
Only me.
I am remembering
that healing is an act of power,
that my no is powerful,
that my yes is freedom,
that my love for myself
is the law of this land.
And from this place,
I rise.
Glad you are back. Always inspiring.