
“I walked through it — and rose.”
I didn’t just go through hell.
I made it through still glowing. And no — the flames didn’t burn me.
They blessed me.
They peeled away everything that was never mine to carry.
They scorched the lies I believed about myself.
They incinerated the illusions, the attachments, the distractions.
I used to think pain was punishment.
Now I know: pain is the portal. I used to ask,
“Why me, God?”
Now I ask,
“What are You revealing in this?”
Because this fire?
It taught me more than comfort ever could.
It showed me who’s real.
Who’s temporary.
What I truly need.
And most importantly — who I am when everything else is stripped away.
But I didn’t run.
I stayed.
I let it burn.
And from those ashes, something wild and beautiful emerged:
A woman who no longer fears her own power.
I’m not the same.
My discernment is sharper.
My boundaries are sacred.
My peace is non-negotiable. I no longer chase.
I attract.
I no longer beg.
I receive.
I no longer break at the touch of pain.
I alchemize it.
It purified me.
Sanctified me.
Brought me back to myself. It burned away every lie I ever believed:
That I had to earn love.
That I had to stay small to be accepted.
That I had to dim my spirit to survive.
No more.
Now I walk unapologetically in the woman God called me to be —
Bold.
Rooted.
Anointed.
Untouchable.
- What pain are you still running from that’s actually here to purify you?
- Who would you become if you let it all burn?
- What would rise from your ashes if you stopped fearing the fire?
I didn’t get burned.
I got born.
Born again in truth, in light, in flame.
And this version of me?
She’s fireproof.