Intimately Worded with Michelle

Tag: #findingyourway

  • SuperSoul Sunday: Where My Heart Learned to Heal

    I am sitting with the day.

    It has been a SuperSoul Sunday.

    Church was beautiful today. Worship was high, the kind of worship that doesn’t just sound good but reaches somewhere inside of you and reminds you: You’re still here. You’re still held. Keep going.

    And then there was the park.

    I have been going there since my children were babies. My youngest is 19 now, which means this place has been part of our family story for nearly two decades.

    But somewhere along the way, it became more than a park.

    It became one of the first places where my heart learned how to heal.

    I walked there. I ran there.

    There were seasons when I didn’t know what was next. I remember losing my job (corporate thug life) and going there to walk and run—to move my body when my mind didn’t know what to do with itself.

    I ate lunch there by myself, sitting at a picnic table. Sometimes solitude was not something I had chosen. Sometimes it was simply where I was.

    And somehow, Jesus met me there.

    Every time.

    Not necessarily with an answer.

    Not always with some grand revelation.

    Sometimes just enough peace to make it through the afternoon. Sometimes enough room to breathe. Sometimes enough quiet to hear myself again.

    That is what makes a place sacred to me.

    Not the building. Not the landscaping.

    Not whether anyone else would understand why it matters.

    It is what happened there. It is who I became there. It is where I encountered God there.

    Over the last ten years or so, the area has become increasingly crowded. Neighborhoods have grown. A school is nearby. There are more people, more activity, more life.

    And for a while, I stopped going.

    There was even a guy who kept talking to me every time I went. He wasn’t scary. Just irritating.

    Sometimes we leave places for reasons that aren’t nearly as profound as the reasons we once needed them. I found other sacred spaces.

    Places where I could breathe. Places where I could pray. Places where I could be alone with my thoughts and with God.

    But that park remained my first.

    Today, on a Sunday, I went back.

    Bru had invited one of his best friends to church. Autumn was off. It was great attending as a Family. The boys decided to walk the trails together.

    I chose not to walk with them.

    I took my own path around the park.

    And then I saw them.

    Three deer. 🦌🦌🦌

    Walking. Pausing. Looking at me.

    I stood there in complete awe.

    My camerawoman skills are not it. 🤦🏽‍♀️

    I have been coming to this place since my babies were babies, and I have never seen deer there.

    Not once. And today, there they were. Three.

    I don’t know if God sent the deer to give me a message. I don’t need to make them into something they may not be.

    But I know what it felt like to stand there.

    It felt like being reminded to pay attention.

    To notice. To stay present. To slow down enough to see what had always been possible but had somehow remained unseen.

    I thought to run, walk past or turn around. I heard, “wait.”

    Maybe that’s what healing does.

    It doesn’t always take us somewhere completely new. Sometimes it brings us back to an old place with new eyes.

    The same trees. The same trails. The same picnic tables. But a different woman walking through them.

    I have changed. A lot.

    The woman who once ran those trails after losing her job is not the woman standing there today.

    The mother pushing through the seasons of raising babies is not the woman watching her 19-year-old son walk trails with one of his best friends.

    The woman who needed that park to survive a season is now able to return simply to receive the beauty of it.

    That feels significant.

    And maybe this is what I am learning about sacred spaces:

    They don’t have to remain untouched to remain sacred. They can become crowded. We can leave them. We can find other places. Life can change around them.

    And still, when we return, something in us remembers.

    I think that’s true of people, too.

    There are places we once needed desperately that we no longer need in the same way. There are relationships that held us for a season but aren’t meant to hold us forever. There are versions of ourselves that did the best they could with what they knew.

    And there are places—physical and spiritual—that become part of the architecture of our healing.

    That park is one of mine.

    It is one of the first places my heart learned that being alone did not necessarily mean being abandoned. That movement could become prayer. That lunch at a picnic table could become communion.

    That tears could fall beneath a sky and somehow you could still leave lighter. That Jesus could meet me outside of a church building.

    Actually, maybe that’s one of the reasons I love sacred spaces so much.

    Because Jesus has never seemed particularly concerned about staying inside the places we expect Him to be.

    He meets me on trails. At picnic tables. In quiet mornings. In difficult seasons. In unexpected conversations. In our emptiness.

    And apparently…

    sometimes in the middle of a park with three deer staring at me. There was another little reminder today, too.

    I had been thinking about taking a break from the dating app. The fatigue was beginning to creep in—the endless conversations, the sorting, the wondering, the discernment.

    And then this morning, I matched with a man with a beautiful smile and really good conversation.

    And then came the complication.

    He is legally married, though separated for three years. They aren’t trying to reconcile. We both respected each other’s position, and we agreed not to continue.

    Could there have been something there?

    Perhaps.

    But I am learning that possibility is not the same thing as permission. Something can feel good and still not be for me. Something can have potential and still require a boundary. And something can end before it begins without being a failure.

    Maybe that’s another kind of healing.

    Being able to say, “I see the possibility. And I also see the boundary.”

    No bitterness. No drama. No chasing. Just discernment.

    At 5:28 PM, I am thinking about all of this.

    About the woman I was. About the woman I am.

    About the places that have held me.

    About the places I have outgrown.

    About the places I may return to.

    About the sacred spaces I haven’t found yet.

    And about the strange, beautiful truth that sometimes we don’t realize a place was helping us heal until years later.

    I thought I was just walking.

    I thought I was just getting some air.

    I thought I was just eating lunch alone.

    I thought I was just trying to survive losing a job.

    But maybe Jesus was teaching my heart something. Maybe He was showing me that solitude could be holy. That movement could be medicine for the soul. That I could sit alone and still be accompanied. That I could lose something and still find myself. That I could leave and return.

    That I could become someone new without abandoning the woman who came before me.

    And today, after all these years, I walked through that sacred space again.

    And three deer stopped to look at me.

    Maybe they were simply deer. Maybe that’s all they needed to be. But I stopped, too.

    And for a moment, we just looked at each other.

    And I smiled.

    Because sometimes healing isn’t a dramatic revelation. Sometimes healing is simply realizing:

    I am still here. God is still here. And there is still beauty I haven’t seen yet.

    SuperSoul Sunday: Lean into your miracles.

    Have courage,

    Michelle

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle.

  • The Seventh Wonder: Grace

    The Seventh Wonder: Grace

    Graced for More

    There’s something special about July.

    The seventh month quietly invites me to pause. It isn’t the excitement of a new year or the anticipation of autumn. Instead, it feels like a gentle checkpoint—a place where I can stop long enough to ask myself, How am I really doing?
    This first week of July has found me reflecting more than usual.

    I’ve been taking inventory. Not the kind of inventory that measures success by accomplishments or compares my life to someone else’s timeline. Rather, the kind that requires honesty, courage, and enough grace to tell the truth without condemning myself.

    I’ve reflected on parenting.
    No matter how old our children become, parenting continues to shape us. There are moments I’m incredibly proud of, moments I wish I could relive, conversations I would handle differently, and seasons that stretched me beyond what I thought I could bear. Yet, through every chapter, love has remained constant. Perhaps that’s one of the greatest gifts of parenthood—we learn that perfect isn’t the goal. Faithful love is.

    I’ve reflected on singleness.
    Singleness has taught me things marriage never could have. It has uncovered places where I’ve grown stronger, where I’ve healed, and where I still carry hope. There have been disappointments, unmet expectations, and relationships that simply weren’t meant to continue. There have also been beautiful reminders that waiting is not the same as being forgotten.

    Then there are relationships. The journey of loving people—and allowing yourself to be loved—isn’t simple. There have been hopes that never unfolded, missteps I wish I could undo, and mistakes that could break anyone’s heart. Some lessons arrived gently. Others demanded tears before they revealed their purpose.

    Yet I remain here.
    Still believing in love.
    Still believing people can heal.
    Still believing that God writes stories we could never script ourselves.

    I’ve also been taking inventory of practical things.
    My finances. My goals. My dreams. The life I’m building. The spaces I’m organizing. From decluttering closets to organizing my budget, I’ve realized both require similar questions: What belongs? What no longer serves me? What am I making room for? And yes…I’ve even laughed to myself wondering if this is finally the year I’ll commit to playing the lottery. Probably not. But it’s funny what crosses your mind when you’re dreaming about possibilities.

    The question that keeps returning, though, is much deeper: Am I still walking within God’s will for my life? Not someone else’s expectations. Not society’s timeline. Not the pressure to have everything figured out by now.

    Simply God’s will.
    Because I’ve learned that faithfulness doesn’t always look flashy. Sometimes it looks like showing up to work. Paying your bills. Loving your family well. Resting when you’re tired. Saying no when your spirit says no. Continuing to hope after disappointment. Trusting God one ordinary day at a time.

    Perhaps the hardest inventory of all has been extending grace to myself.
    Self-grace sounds beautiful until it’s time to practice it. I’m often harder on myself than anyone else could ever be.

    I’ve never been one to look for shortcuts. I’ve always believed in doing the work, taking the longer road if necessary, and building a life with integrity. There are consequences to choosing the long way around. Progress can feel slower. Success may arrive later than expected. Sometimes you wonder if everyone else discovered a map you somehow missed.

    But I also know this: The long road has introduced me to a deeper version of myself. It has strengthened my faith. It has refined my character.
    It has taught me that love is less about arriving and more about becoming.

    Maybe that’s what this season is really teaching me.

    To become someone who allows herself to be loved while continuing to love others well. To celebrate growth instead of perfection. To trust God’s pace instead of my own. To believe that every chapter—even the difficult ones—has been shaping something beautiful.

    As July unfolds, my prayer is simple.
    May I continue taking honest inventory without losing hope. May I organize my heart as carefully as I organize my home. May I steward my finances with wisdom, my relationships with intention, and my dreams with open hands. Most of all, may I remember that God’s grace has always been greater than my regrets. And perhaps that’s the sweetest place to begin again.

    The greatest wonder isn’t that I’ve built the perfect life. It’s that God has sustained me through every imperfect season with grace.

    Gracefully, M.🌻

    “Let us search out and examine our ways, and turn back to the Lord.” Book of Lamentations 3:40

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle

  • Navigating Healing, Solo-Entrepreneurship & All the Feels

    Navigating Healing, Solo-Entrepreneurship & All the Feels

    Sunday is feeling like thriving, good hope and reset.

    Today, I moved about my day intentionally—honoring Sundays, my time, my work and my SelfCare. One facial mask and folded clothes from the dryer later, I bake brownies and I write. There is something sacred about slow Sundays when you are rebuilding your life from the inside out.

    Lately, I’ve been leaning into singleness again with greater determination. Soft, yet strategic boundaries. My time is valuable now in ways I understand differently at 55. Peace has become expensive and I no longer hand it out freely in exchange for inconsistency, confusion or potential.

    I’m also leaning into entrepreneurship with greater wisdom and patience.

    Building something meaningful alone is isolating. Lonely. Hard.

    There are no standing ovations for the backend work. No applause when you’re troubleshooting systems, learning insurance credentialing, waiting on support tickets, updating websites, responding to inquiries, writing blogs, managing finances and trying not to emotionally collapse under the pressure of uncertainty.

    People often celebrate the finished product without acknowledging the emotional labor of becoming.

    These past few weeks, I’ve been intentionally building my private practice. I established Transitional Pathways PLLC years ago, but this season feels different. More focused. More aligned. Less performative. I’m accepting insurance now, learning new systems, exploring growth and stretching beyond survival mode into sustainability.

    And if I’m honest, there are moments I sit quietly and wonder if I should have started sooner.

    Maybe at 32.
    Maybe at 40.
    Maybe before life happened the way it did.

    Sometimes SoftGirl. Sometimes dinosaur. ✨

    But healing teaches us something entrepreneurship eventually confirms: timing matters.

    Who I am now carries more depth, discernment and emotional clarity than the woman I was decades ago. There is less ego attached to success now and more intention attached to peace. I no longer want to build quickly if it costs me my nervous system, my softness or my relationship with God.

    So I’m learning to build slowly.
    Wisely.
    Honestly.

    I’m learning that entrepreneurship is not simply about money or branding. Sometimes it’s about trusting yourself again after disappointment. Sometimes it’s about believing your voice matters enough to take up space. Sometimes it’s about sitting with loneliness without abandoning your vision.

    And healing? Healing is realizing you can create a beautiful life while things are still unfinished.

    Today, I’m resting.
    Tomorrow, I’ll continue building.

    Both matter.

    — Intimately Worded

  • Healing: A Season of Solitude

    The Journey of Journaling

    There are seasons in life when healing doesn’t arrive with a clear roadmap. There are no ten steps, no quick formulas, no perfectly outlined path back to ourselves. Instead, healing often arrives quietly—through awareness, compassion, and the courage to sit with our own hearts.

    Recently, while waiting for my daughter in a parking lot, I opened my journal and wrote the following:

    “My body spoke to me: rest. I woke up and decided against attending church. I snacked on fruit and nuts while I completed notes. I took a 2-hour nap. I awoke rested.

    I took a photo of the sunflower in my vase catching the sunlight.

    Loving thing to remember: I am loveable. This season of solitude is healing. I miss his presence, the comfort he gave. I am better than ok.”

    When I read those words again later, I realized something important: healing had already begun before I ever tried to “figure it out.”

    Listening Instead of Fixing

    In a culture that often pushes us to move quickly through discomfort, solitude can feel like something we must escape or rush through. But sometimes the most honest thing we can do is pause long enough to listen.

    On that particular day, my body asked for rest. Instead of overriding the signal, I honored it. I skipped church, completed the work that needed my attention, ate something simple, and allowed myself a nap.

    That decision wasn’t dramatic or heroic. It was simply attentive.

    Healing often begins in these quiet moments—when we stop trying to control the process and start listening to what our bodies and spirits need.

    The Beauty That Returns

    Light & Shadows ✨

    What surprised me most about that day wasn’t the rest. It was the moment of beauty.

    I found myself taking a picture of a sunflower sitting in a vase, illuminated by sunlight. It wasn’t an extraordinary scene, yet something about the light felt warm and alive.

    When our hearts begin to heal, we start noticing small beauty again. Light through a window. A quiet moment. The stillness of a flower catching the sun.

    These small recognitions are not trivial; they are signs that the nervous system is settling and the heart is slowly reopening.

    Holding Multiple Truths

    Another realization came as I reread my journal entry: healing doesn’t require us to deny what we feel.

    I wrote honestly that I miss his presence and the comfort he once gave. Missing someone does not mean we are broken or moving backward. It simply means the connection mattered.

    At the same time, I affirmed something equally important:

    I am loveable.

    This season of solitude is healing.

    I am better than ok.

    Healing with an open heart means allowing multiple truths to coexist. We can miss someone and still move forward. We can feel tenderness for the past while choosing a healthier future.

    Solitude Is Not Emptiness

    A season of solitude is often misunderstood as loneliness or isolation. In reality, it can be a sacred space where clarity and self-respect deepen.

    Solitude gives us the room to ask gentle questions:

    What does my body need right now? What does peace feel like in my life? What kind of love truly aligns with my values?

    These questions do not demand immediate answers. They simply invite awareness.

    Healing Is Not a Checklist

    There is a temptation to treat healing as a set of steps: forgive, move on, start again. But real healing rarely unfolds so neatly.

    Instead, it grows through:

    Compassion for ourselves when we feel vulnerable.

    Forgiveness, not as a forced act but as a gradual softening of the heart.

    Awareness of our needs, boundaries, and inner wisdoms.

    When we allow healing to unfold naturally, it becomes less about fixing ourselves and more about rediscovering ourselves.

    An Open Heart in a Quiet Season

    That short journal entry reminded me that healing does not always announce itself with grand breakthroughs. Sometimes it appears as rest, sunlight, and the quiet affirmation that we are still worthy of love.

    A season of solitude is not a pause in life. It is a period of listening, growing, and becoming more deeply rooted in who we truly are.

    And from that place, love—healthy, stable, reflective love—has a way of finding us again.

    Until then, we keep listening to the small, wise voice within that says:

    Rest.

    Notice the light.

    Remember—you are loveable.

    I encourage you to trust this part of the journey too.

    Being brave,

    Michelle 🌿

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle

  • Snowed In on a Sunday: Expectancy, Stillness, and the Grace of Pausing

    After the Storm 2026

    There is something sacred about a Sunday when North Carolina snow is expected. Not the dramatic, blizzard kind— but the kind that slows the roads, quiets the neighborhood, and gently insists: stay in.

    The kind that turns errands into cancellations and plans into permission. For me, Snow in NC carries expectancy. We watch the sky. We check the forecast more than once. We listen for the hush that comes right before it begins.

    And when it finally falls, everything feels muted— as if the world itself is holding its breath.

    Being snowed in on a Sunday feels different. It’s not confinement; it’s an invitation. To pause without explanation. To rest without productivity attached. To be still without feeling behind.

    The snow does what Sundays were always meant to do— slow us enough to notice ourselves again. There’s no rushing out the door. No pressure to make the most of the day.

    Just warm rooms, familiar quiet, and the gentle rhythm of time stretching instead of tightening.

    In the stillness, expectancy shifts. It’s no longer about what’s coming next— but about what’s already here.

    What we’ve been carrying. What we’ve been ignoring. What our bodies and spirits have been asking for all along. Snow has a way of leveling everything. Covering the noise. Softening the edges.

    Reminding us that rest is not laziness—

    it’s alignment. And maybe that’s the gift of being snowed in on a Sunday: the realization that pausing is not a detour from life, but a return to it.

    A reminder that God often speaks in the quiet.

    That clarity doesn’t always arrive with movement. That some seasons require us to stop long enough to feel what’s true.

    So today, let the snow fall. Let the world wait. Let your nervous system settle. Let Sunday be Sunday again.

    There is grace in the pause. There is wisdom in the stillness. There is expectancy even here. Especially here. 🌿❄️🌿

    Remain Brave,

    Michelle

    Closing Reflection

    As the snow settles and the world grows quiet,

    ask yourself—

    What am I being invited to pause from right now?And what part of me has been waiting for this stillness to finally speak?

    You don’t have to rush the answer. Let it rise slowly, like snowfall— unannounced, unforced, enough.

    Soft Scripture

    “In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety.” ~Psalm 4:8

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle.

  • Blocking vs. Boundary Setting in Intimate Relationships: Choosing What Protects Your Peace

    Blocking vs. Boundary Setting in Intimate Relationships: Choosing What Protects Your Peace

    Intuition and Self Love

    In the landscape of intimate relationships—especially ones that have ended or grown complicated—the question often arises: Do I block them, or do I set a boundary and keep the line open? Both choices carry meaning, weight, and consequences. The decision is deeply personal, but understanding the difference can help you move toward clarity and healing.

    What Is Blocking?

    Blocking is a hard boundary. It’s a clear, uncompromising decision: “You no longer have access to me in this space.”When you block someone, you remove their ability to call, text, or interact with you on social platforms. This is often used when continued access feels harmful, triggering, or disrespectful to your healing process.

    ✨ For example, one client described how every morning text from her ex felt like reopening a wound. When she finally blocked him, she said she could breathe deeper—the silence felt like freedom, not loss. She likened it to closing a door so her spirit could finally rest.

    • Impact of Blocking:
      • Immediate relief from unwanted contact.
      • Reduces temptation to re-engage in unhealthy dynamics.
      • Signals to yourself that your peace matters more than their access.
      • Can, however, stir feelings of finality or grief—sometimes blocking means truly accepting closure. The “what-if” ping pong game.

    What Is Boundary Setting?

    Boundary setting is a soft or flexible limit. It might look like muting notifications, telling the person when and how you are willing to communicate, or choosing to disengage without fully cutting off access. Boundaries require ongoing communication and reinforcement, and they often shift depending on your healing and growth.

    ✨ Another client chose boundaries over blocking with a co-parent. She muted notifications outside of agreed parenting hours, so she wasn’t startled by messages at night. This gave her control and calm, without shutting the door on necessary communication. She said it felt like drawing a gentle circle of protection around herself and her child.

    • Impact of Boundary Setting:
      • Preserves a sense of control without complete severance.
      • Allows room for civility, co-parenting, or shared responsibilities.
      • Requires emotional strength to hold the line when boundaries are tested.
      • Can prolong attachment if the other person continues to cross boundaries or send mixed messages.

    Which Is Right for You?

    The choice between blocking and boundary setting comes down to one central question: Does their access to me nurture my healing, or does it harm it?

    • If their presence disrupts your peace, drains your energy, or constantly reopens wounds—blocking may be the healthiest option.
    • If there is space for respect, distance, and maturity in ongoing contact—boundary setting may work.

    Neither choice is about punishment; both are about protecting your well-being.

    The Deeper Impact

    • Blocking often brings a sharper sense of relief and clarity, but also demands acceptance of closure.
    • Boundaries offer flexibility, but can leave cracks where old dynamics slip back in.

    Both paths teach you something powerful: your care, energy, and attention are sacred resources. Choosing how to guard them is an act of self-respect.

    A Gentle Spiritual Reminder

    When facing the choice to block or set boundaries, it can help to soften the moment with spiritual grounding. Offer yourself a simple prayer or affirmation:

    “I release what disturbs my peace. I trust that God, Spirit, and Love guide me into relationships that honor my soul. My heart is safe, my life is unfolding, and I am whole.”

    Remember: healing isn’t just about saying no to someone else—it’s about saying yes to yourself, your faith, and your future.

    Call to Action

    If you find yourself wrestling with this decision, take time to journal, pray, or meditate on these questions:

    • When I allow access, do I feel peace or pain?
    • When I remove access, do I feel loss or freedom?
    • What does my spirit long for in this season of my life?

    If the answers feel heavy, consider reaching out to a trusted therapist, faith leader, or supportive community. Sometimes the most spiritual act of love is to protect the vessel that is you.

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

    @TransitionalPathwaysPLLC

    Where healing is sacred and intimacy begins with you.

  • The Plot of Resiliency: Do Not Settle With Hurt

    I’m not afraid of the unknown. I tend to get stuck in the not knowing…and that becomes quite tricky, rather unsatisfying; in some moments punishing.

    We do not have to settle with hurt and we should try our best not to settle with it. I know it is difficult and often feels normal when we settle with pain. Pain becomes our comfort, a comfortable familiar dysfunction, more friend than foe.

    I’m on a new dating app and all I want to do is try, have great communication, and see. I’m told by my friends I should be with someone who matches my love. I think so too. I’m learning to be available without giving heavy access to others; to enjoy the simple things. Know the difference with nurture vs blame: our roles in our relationships change.

    It is fascinating how we’re in the relationship and our partner knows us, listens. Then suddenly it becomes our fault, this emotional pain, our walls become our default. We shoot fires of what-ifs: Why do you do what you do? This wouldn’t have happened if you did what you were suppose to do. We take ownership of the mistakes, the mishaps, the wrong in their perspective. We punish ourselves with, “I should have done better.” We bypass the nudges, the emotional learning curves , the red flags with the mentality, “I will try to fix it” or “I’ll do better.” The blame becomes a cycle, a cycle of toxic behavior. A cycle of you doubting yourself, you trying to figure out what suddenly happened. Total train wreck, a complete train-wreck. I’ve been in situations, predicaments in which I am treated like a “queen” yet the second that there is an indication of independence, of learned liberty, of liberation, it is squashed, insulted. Now another rejection where there is jealousy and intimidation voiced with insults and growing resentment; conflict. #DeepSigh

    Early this morning, while on my walk I saw what I thought were red wild roses. I thought how odd that they are growing so randomly along this trail. Upon further inspection, I realized they were flowers of blackberry bushes. I love blackberries…it starts out as a beautiful flower. I have forgotten that over the years.

    I hear Tupac: “Some say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice
    I say the darker the flesh then the deeper the roots…

    Because there’s too many things for you to deal with

    Dying inside, but outside you’re looking fearless…

    You gotta keep ya head up.”

    Songwriters: Daryl L. Anderson / Roger Troutman / Stan Vincent / Tupac Amaru Shakur

    I encourage you to keep growing, protect your healing in your process, love this journey to the next pathway with compassion and integrity. You’re deserving of the good things too.

    Bloom exactly where you are; with God we are different. #SoulWorkInYourWait

    “I am going to bring … recovery and healing; I will heal them and reveal to them abundance of prosperity and security.” Jeremiah 33:6

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

  • Homework: Self Study💕

    In reflection this Sunday morning: My day off…I am still off my routine of things. It was struggle to enjoy my mani and massage pedi. I mindfully had to make myself sit and be taken care of— for they are doing great work.

    I’m noticing that I’m struggling within the easy parts of my life. My self maintenance is priority —yet even in that I’m resolved to what is the point. What is the point in all I’ve worked for and towards to be told that “there is something there.” I’m not professing hopelessness or helplessness. I’m still trying to figure out what I did wrong. I believe I’ve had to do something wrong that requires punishment. Right?Right.

    Thursday mornings are my spiritual companionship times w/ my Spiritual Advisor. We’ve been together over a year now and I would say she knows me better than most. She affirms me in who I am, how I am, how I love and how I want to be loving. She doesn’t push unless she recognizes that I am not present. She gets me, all of me. Although, this Thursday morning was a struggle too—to hear her, to want to be there. Through this tough time that I am struggling with…I am fussing and complaining about mistreatment towards me, towards others, how this world is cruel at it’s best and it’s worst; I fuss about friendships, about abuse; about it all. She quietly asks me to “overstand, to know that not everyone has your gift.”

    I chuckled silently and think, I’m struggling to inner-stand, understand where I am. I acknowledge that, no one is holding space for me. Deep sigh. I am committed to surviving with thriving–this in-betweenness is difficult. This week’s wins: I woke every morning with purpose. I reached out to patients outside of working hours due to their hurts along their journey. I took two vacation days without working and finishing notes. I am planning for workshops in 2022 with strategic hope. I daily connected with my children and spent time with my granddaughter. I talked to my sister and my biological Aunt Shirley. My Koda is without a doubt the most loving furbaby ever.

    What I am learning: we love easier when we allow our changes to come softly. When it feels the most is falling apart…maybe the transitions bring all we’ve wanted to fruition and all is coming together. It all looks different, fearful. We’ve never been in this position before. I never expected love throughout this type of season. Redefine Love for yourSelf. My father told me once: “Michelle you’re just running in the field of flowers.” Of course, there was an hour long lecture about relationships after that. I was a teen.☺️
    It’s 30 years later and I get it. I comprehend those wisdom highlights more so than ever. I miss him.

    I anticipated and wanted “Love” happy, without sadness, without work. There are consequences to our choices. Undoubtedly, there are benefits to our choices as well. Every rejection, disappointment, their “no” can possibly set us on an extraordinary different path. Stop attaching your future to leftovers, to what is left. You’re dodging bullets left and right, Woman! Rise up. Level up. Do you. Protect yourSelf with love—be loving– intuitively. This is…this betterment is actual; it is what is tangible, intangible. This journey, our blessings are necessary. Our lessons learned. Our experiences personal. Everything is happening for your good—-even the current pain of right now. Choose You again and again—intimately and faithfully.

    Words for thought: Scripture: Luke 22:31-32

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

  • “There is something there…”

    “There is something there…”

    Vulnerability: November 2021

    Prelude: I am flowing not forcing. I reflect, smile and I asked God for more writing days.

    My days, my months, this year has been divine, purposed, productive, exhausting and loving days of hallelujahs. I am living to “do no harm” to anyone and thriving in my authenticity to be my truly different unique self.

    I purchased a gym membership and I show up 2x a week at 5:00 am. I am loving it and finally seeing results after 2 months. I’m closer to entrepreneurship: professional headshots, website. My Tribe is flourishing. As an employee: I’m excelling, scheduled months out and there are bonuses that I forgot about. I witness the healing that will benefit individuals as well as generations and I am in awe of God’s purpose in my life.

    Friday, day after Thanksgiving, I show up for my second imaging mammogram. I’m nervously strong, I think. Of course I’m completely turned around due to nerves. I’m in the Breast Cancer Center not Imaging. Mentally cuss the lady that left a voicemail without an address. Now I think I’ve completed a faux pau of predicting my future. Nice lady gave me directions to the Imaging Center.. I walk, yes walk, to the other building. My day off…no coffee, full of lostness and anxiety. #Michelle #DeepSigh #EarlyMornings

    Second imaging is the worst. Painfully so.

    Her: “Breathe. Stop breathing. Move to the left. Face me. Breathe. Stop breathing. Look forward. Look out the window.” Pain. Pain. I gasp.

    Me: “Is it suppose to hurt like this?

    Her: “Breathe. Stop breathing.”

    My thoughts: “What have I done? Why am I here?”

    She sits me in a quiet area. She comes back.

    Her: “Your left breast is clear. We need to do an ultrasound on the right.” I’m still confused. Really confused but I say okay. She does the ultrasound. I realize she taking the longest time. Her: “I’ll go get the doctor.” I stop breathing. He comes in, black framed glasses and white coat. He’s real. He starts examining, searching. I don’t think I’m breathing. There’s nothing in my head. No sound. No words. He speaks: “There’s something there.”

    I disassociate. I hear him. My tears fall silently as I listen. My voice whispers, “What now Jesus?”
    She places back in the room. I cry. I cry for awhile. She places me in another room. I do not breathe as we discuss procedures. Her: “Do you have insurance?” My thoughts: ”What if I did not? What happens if you do not have insurance? Does it just remain there? Growing?”

    I’ve never had the greatest relationship with my breast. I was a 36C at 16 and my mother was a Southern Baptist Mom to her heart; everything was covered. My breasts drew attention: Middle school boys, older men…they eventually became strangers to me. The alienation continued through childbirth and breastfeeding. I did the self-exams, my annuals they were always healthy, heavy, covered (no pretty lace bras for me) …yet they defined my femininity. They are purposeful, necessary, required. They are mine.

    I ask for your healing prayers as I go in for a biopsy 12/23. Currently, I’m crying a lot. Thinking a lot. Putting their future ( my Tribe) in perspective. Trying to think…unsure of how to process any and all of this. My Tribe knows. The youngest walks away as I am telling my older two sons. I question him later. He responds: “I heard December 23rd. You’re not dying from cancer. That’s it. We’re not losing you to breast cancer.”

    My sleepless nights….strange. I feel strange. Unfamiliar. I wake up crying throughout the night. I now sleep with a security blanket…I wake up holding it. I’m 51. I feel doubtful. Hopeful. Worried. My breasts —alienated. The right one seems more dominant….it never has been…they are disproportionately different in size yet it feels the heaviest. I’m scared. Prayerful.

    Life has taught me and taught me well. I stopped believing in my fairytales a long time ago, without bitterness. Nowadays, I see how God places me in the center of my unbeliefs and strengthens me to wait and see, to heal. I am trusting Him for that yet wondering what if it is too big of an ask. Healing?

    A few months ago, I silently asked for more writing days, for more “Me” days, for the ability to take more moments to do other things I love: soft launch of private practice, creating a woman’s support group, certification as a group psychotherapist, seemingly my goals, my wants are coming to fruition….all of this I am working on. Trusting Him for those things.; the tangibles. What I know, He answers our prayers His way.

    Intimately worded,

    Michelle

    Persistent: December 2021

    #Mammograms #Breasts #MyBreasts #BlackWomenHealth #Mass #Growth #Treatment #Biopsy #Healing #BlackWomen #Therapy #SpiritualHealth

  • The In-between

    #MustHaveJoy

    *This a repost from my IG page. Weekly, over several years I encourage by posting SaturdayLove reflections. It gives me opportunity to share my thoughts and my heart.

    #SaturdayLove: What a week! A huge amount of different emotions: the trial, the verdict, our response and we still live with everything that continues to happen.

    We’re giving on empty. We’re loving on experience, traumatic experiences. We’re running on fumes. We’re hoping…Faith-ing our way through. Our in between is frayed. #Breathe

    I turned more into my Family, my dreams and my work this week. I began to measure my milestones, taking mental inventory of what I want and who I am; reflecting on how this world affects me. My weariness, my faith and my hope are intertwined. I smiled. I can’t ignore the World. I’m not built that way. My heart is this ever-evolving rhythmic thing. Our humanity is in questioned and I am aware that it always had been and will continue to be. I still remember when my parents were the #CareGivers and I was safe. No worries.

    This world continues to get bigger in so many different ways. #CollectiveDisturbance
    My faith will too. There’s so much more we are required to give. Refuse to give/live on empty. Find and heal in those spaces that trigger you, bully you. •SelfCare. •SelfLove. •Recovery •Rest
    Know that it isn’t selfish; it is necessary. We’ve got so much more work to do. Pace yourself. Listen with love. #SelfHealing

    I pray peace in your struggles as well as peace in prosperity. Continue to find your way. Know what works for your healing…what and who supports you in being loved and loving.

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle💞

    #BeAWholeMovement #GetBackOnYourGangsta #YouAreSoDope #DoYourWork #Queens #SelfDefeatism #Struggles #SpiritualWork #Heavy #TraumaResponse #Women #Family #Parenting #BlackParents #Mothers #Friends #BlackWomen #Love #Therapy #Racism #Love
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    #BlackWoman
    #BlackWomanTherapist
    #Thriver
    #FreedSoul

  • #31DaysOfPrayer ♥️

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  • Lion’s Den and the vulnerability of Belief

    God walks before us. He never plays catch up. As so many things fall away, as our fears are presented to us daily in different ways we should be able to “see” more of whom God is.

    It is during the midnight hours, the darkest moments in my life that I can hear, “see”, and feel God with the greatest clarity. To think we are alone, living and loving without the aid of others is a self-demonizing discouragement, which is fueled by our greatest fear — that we are unloved.

    There are thoughts we tell ourselves to build walls of protection…it is where we live, where we hide our hearts. Where we stick our real dreams. Unknowingly, we begin to suffocate them. We expect to remain in the Lion’s Den. We secretly fear a rescue. For then, what would we do? I know trust is one of the most difficult things we learn to do, even with God.

    We should strive to meet our hurt challenges with hope. Even hurt inflicted by others, greet them with hope, believing we will get through. There have been worse times, remember?

    “Faith strengtheners” those problems, those issues are construed to sidetrack us. Designed to keep us right where we are, in fear and in worry mode.  Yes, I know some are so heavy and so hurtful you wonder what the point is. When we do not understand the why we move to what for, remaining stagnant in trying to understand, why me?

    For a moment, let us wrap our mind around the elements of Love. There is so much more to love than what we receive. We have to be able to give back. We have to. Push forward. When in the Lion’s den our opportunities of relate, release and recover are met. We emerge better, without a scratch; better focused. I am committed in my belief that everything happens for a reason a lot of it not by our own choices but rather for our experiences. There is no way I can encourage you about faith when I do not know one thing about being faithful. I cannot assure you all will be all right if I do not know the place of not being all right. (It is temporary.) There is more in the Lion’s Den then chaos. At times, it is the place where you find your faith and the source of your faith so that you are able to continue.

    Be encouraged in your Lion’s Den. Be even more the encourager when you come out of the Lion’s Den….for you will come out of it. Continue to be expectant of God’s love for you, for me, for us.

    Ever hopeful,

    A.Michelle!