Unaltered Voices

Sometimes life gives you a full-circle moment, one that connects something you once heard, something you once lived, and something you were always meant to know. Not long ago, I was watching a video that brought me right back to a conversation my daughter and I had years ago. At the time, I didn’t realize how prophetic her words were. She said: “We come into people’s lives to heal them in some way. We mirror them so they can see themselves and shift.” At the time, I wasn’t fully walking in who I am now. I was still learning, still growing, still discovering my purpose. But as I listened to that video, hearing someone else say the very thing my daughter once told me, I realized it finally clicked . I understood. I am the catalyst. And no, that’s not about ego. It’s not about thinking I’m better than anyone else. It’s about knowing my purpose and the divine energy I’m meant to carry into this world. It’s no coincidence that my passions are life coaching and writing; both are tools that...

We’ve all heard the phrase, “I just need closure.” But if we’re being real, closure isn’t always what we think it is. I recently wrote that the only closure you need is the sound of the door closing as they’re on their way out. And I meant that. Because sometimes, “wanting closure” is just a dressed-up way of saying, “I’m not ready to let go.” We say we want answers, but what we really want is one more look, one more text, one more chance to change someone’s mind. Let’s call it what it is — the closure scam. The truth is, closure rarely gives you peace. What we’re actually chasing is control. We want to make sense of someone’s choices, their betrayal, their silence. But closure doesn’t come from their explanation; it comes from your acceptance. I say “we,” but I really mean you. Because I’ve already accepted the fact that the way someone psychologically violated me was my closure. It took me a while to understand that closure isn’t a conversation; it’s a conclusion. It’s not what they ...

There’s something divine about water. It reflects both peace and power, calm yet capable of chaos. But there’s a truth about water that mirrors life perfectly: Our bodies were made to float. The only time we drown is when we panic. When we thrash, fight, and forget what we’re made of, the very water that could have carried us begins to consume us. It’s not the depth that destroys us; it’s the fear. I’ve learned this not only through my own journey but also through what I wrote about in The Coaches Connect II: A Guide to Navigating Adversity. On the cover, I chose raging waters intentionally. They symbolize the storms that come for us all. Whether it’s heartbreak, betrayal, financial struggle, grief, or the weight of expectations, life has a way of testing how long we can hold our breath. But here’s the revelation: you don’t have to hold your breath, you have to breathe. You have to fill your lungs and let the same air that gives you life help you rise. Just as water will lift you wh...

As we prepare to step into a new year, I want to challenge you with something radical: leave everything you’ve been taught in 2025. Yes, everything. Even the things you thought were “good enough.” Even the beliefs that feel safe because they’re familiar. Even the traditions you’ve clung to because you didn’t want to let anyone down. Start new like a painter facing a blank canvas, brush in hand, ready to create a masterpiece. The truth is, many of us are navigating life unsure of who we really are because our conditioning has left us conflicted. We don’t want to hurt this person or that person, but in the process, we’re the ones carrying pain. We keep upholding teachings, traditions, and beliefs that keep us small, stuck, and silent. But if those very patterns have been breaking you, it’s time to let them go. This next chapter of your life requires you to: Sit with yourself in silence. Trust your higher self and the Spirit of God to guide you. Welcome new downloads, even when they shak...

There’s a particular kind of dismissal that cuts sharper than an outright insult. It’s the moment you speak truth and someone shrugs it off, only to embrace that very same truth once it comes from another mouth. It’s not that they couldn’t understand you. It’s that they chose not to. This is what it feels like to be underestimated. To have your insight discredited, not because it’s wrong, but because you said it. You can say birds fly , and they’ll argue they swim. You can present wisdom, and they’ll label it opinion. But let someone else repeat it, suddenly it’s fact, suddenly it’s brilliant, suddenly it’s gospel. This kind of dismissal disempowers in ways we rarely name. It teaches you that your words don’t matter, that your knowing isn’t valid, that you must wait for others to verify the truths you already hold. And if you let it, it can silence you, make you hesitate, question, shrink. But here’s the truth they don’t want to acknowledge: their refusal to see you does not erase you...