Intimately Worded with Michelle

Tag: purpose

  • Grace, Pathways, and the Cost of Becoming

    New Beginnings

    The new year does not arrive quietly. It comes with memory, with residue, with the echo of prayers whispered in exhaustion and spoken aloud in faith. As I step into this year, I do so aware of divine forces that have been at work long before I had language for them. God’s love has not been performative or punitive—it has been steady, corrective, and deeply intimate.

    Some prayers were answered quickly. Others were answered slowly, through redirection, loss, or delay. And some were answered in ways that required me to grow into the answer rather than simply receive it. I now understand that unanswered prayers are often invitations to become wiser, more honest, and more discerning.

    The Pathways of 2025

    The pathways established in 2025 were not accidental. They were carved through difficult decisions, uncomfortable boundaries, and moments where choosing myself felt lonely but necessary. I learned that God’s guidance does not always feel gentle in the moment—but it is always precise.

    Every hard pivot created alignment. Every closed door reduced distraction. Every ending taught me discernment. What once felt like disruption revealed itself as divine order.

    The wisdom gained did not come from ease. It came from emotional pain—pain that now reads like a highlight reel of growth rather than a list of regrets. I can trace my maturity back to moments where I survived disappointment without losing my softness, where I chose integrity over convenience, and where I honored my values even when it cost me comfort.

    Emotional Pain as Wisdom

    The older I get, the more I understand emotional pain as a form of instruction. Pain exposes what matters. It clarifies what cannot be negotiated. It sharpens our ability to love ourselves with boundaries rather than abandonment.

    Grace, I’ve learned, is rarely delivered as “I told you so.” God does not shame us with hindsight. Grace is extended from love—quietly, patiently—without the language of “you should have” or “why didn’t you.” Instead, grace says: Now you know. And knowing changes everything.

    This understanding has softened my relationship with my past. I no longer interrogate myself for what I didn’t know then. I honor who I was with the tools I had. Growth does not require self-punishment—it requires acceptance.

    Acceptance Without Self-Erasure

    Acceptance does not mean betraying your desires. It does not require you to prove your love by shrinking your wants, lowering your standards, or redesigning your future to make others more comfortable. Acceptance is not compliance.

    I am learning to lean into acceptance without changing the landscape of my wants. Without negotiating my needs. Without confusing patience with settling.

    Because settling has consequences.

    And I have learned—sometimes painfully—that the cost of settling is always higher than the cost of waiting, choosing again, or walking away.

    Counting the Cost

    I will continue to ask myself one question in this season: What is the cost?

    What is the cost of staying where I am tolerated but not cherished?

    What is the cost of silencing my intuition for the sake of harmony?

    What is the cost of convenience over calling?

    This question has become a form of self-respect. It keeps me aligned with God’s wisdom rather than my fear. It reminds me that love—divine or human—should not require self-abandonment as proof.

    Moving Forward

    As this year unfolds, I trust the pathways already laid. I trust the wisdom earned. I trust that God’s love will continue to guide me—not through coercion, but through clarity.

    I enter this year grounded in faith, sharpened by experience, and unwilling to settle for anything that costs me my peace.

    Grace has met me here.

    And I am ready. 🌿

    A Closing Prayer

    God of wisdom and gentle correction,

    Thank You for loving me without humiliation and guiding me without force. Thank You for the prayers You answered, the ones You delayed, and the ones You answered by changing me. As I step forward, help me to trust the pathways You have already established, even when I cannot see the full picture.

    Grant me discernment to know the cost of settling and the courage to choose what aligns with Your truth for my life. Teach me to accept what has been without diminishing what I still desire. May my wants be refined, not erased. May my love be rooted, not desperate. May my decisions be guided by wisdom rather than fear.

    Cover me with grace as I continue becoming.

    Amen.

    “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.” — Proverbs 3:5–6

    Soul-ing Quote:

    Emotional pain did not break me—it instructed me. What once hurt now highlights the wisdom I earned and the grace that carried me forward.

    ✨🌿✨

    Be brave,

    Michelle

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle.

  • Sunday’s Writing

    Sunday’s Writing

    Words Heal.

    #SuperSundays: I used a gift card I won through a health app and treated myself to Starbucks this morning. I walked in, minding my business, and they handed me a free Red Cup for being a regular coffee consumer. A small, unexpected kindness. A wink from God. #WinWin 🤓

    The Tribe… they were all here this weekend.

    • Autumn fussed about my eating—and my not eating—habits. 🥰 A full Tillman. When she “moms” me, I hear Pearlie Mae, Val, and Keyna speaking through her. Healing comes full circle when our children carry the tone of the women who shaped us.

    • Brutus texted a whole list of demands… while at work. 🧐🤷🏽‍♀️

    • Darius seeking Umi duties. 🥰 His way of staying close.

    • Damien, the big brother who shows up—not loudly, but faithfully. 💛 His presence always lifts me.

    Damien and I spent Saturday together—shopping, movies, dinner. I drove him around for a bit. We got home and he immediately started dressing to go out again. I fussed because truly… he only comes to see his barber and his brother.

    Him: “I’ve been with you all day.”

    🤷🏽‍♀️🧐🙄

    #FirstBornJiltsTheHeart

    There’s a sacred sweetness in this stage of life—grown children finding their own paths but still circling back home in their unique ways. Their presence reminds me that love doesn’t leave; it shifts, expands, and deepens. Even the fussing is a kind of prayer.

    Pair all of that with one spoiled pup and I feel surrounded by a living testimony of God’s goodness. 🌿🧡🌿 I’m leaning into these new chapters, not just gracefully—but spiritually aware.

    🍂 Fall is here again. My favorite.

    NC weather gave us every season this week:

    🌦️☔️🌬️❄️☀️

    But today is calm, bright, and warm in that gentle, soul-softening way.

    This morning was #CoffeeAndQuiet and #PrayersAndSage.

    A settling. A centering.

    A reminder of Psalm 46:10 —

    “Be still, and know that I am God.”

    Stillness is not the absence of movement; it is the presence of awareness. It is choosing to pause long enough to hear what your spirit has been whispering all week.

    Today, I’m reminded:

    Healing isn’t optional; it’s required.

    And it often begins in these small, ordinary, holy moments—

    a free cup at Starbucks,

    a child fussing in love,

    a weekend full of familiar voices,

    a quiet home after the laughter settles.

    Happy Sunday, Good People.

    Take care to take care of yourself. 🌿

    Intimately worded,

    Michelle ❤️‍🩹

  • Falling Season, Get What You Give

    Falling Season, Get What You Give

    November Reflections: Reciprocity, Renewal, and Protecting the Heart

    Work is creeping in, in a deep way—feeling like November and the end of Fall. I know there’s still more Autumn left, even if the weather and early darkness suggest otherwise. There’s a chill that whispers both endings and beginnings.

    For now, I’ll protect my physical body with crochet scarves and my red beanie, layers of warmth and softness that feel like care. Spiritually, I’ll protect myself with scripture, hot tea, and quietness. This combination grounds me—it’s a gentle ritual of self-preservation and presence.

    I will also continue to follow through with clinical encouragement and therapeutic support for my clients. I love what I practice for a living, though it often carries a great amount of heaviness. Bearing witness to others’ pain and growth is sacred work—it deepens empathy but also stretches the heart thin at times. My heart feels frayed a bit lately, yet my hope is deeper and wider.

    It’s Sunday again—a new month, a renewing of time. The clocks “fell back” in the early morning hours, giving us the illusion of more rest, more time. Yet I know how long it takes for the body and spirit to catch up with the shift. This symbolic turning reminds me: don’t allow the world to cloud your intuition. Trust what you know.

    Reciprocity vs. Transactional Relationships

    In therapy and in life, we often examine the balance of giving and receiving—what it means to love freely while maintaining healthy boundaries. It’s important to distinguish reciprocity from a purely transactional way of relating.

    A reciprocal relationship is rooted in goodwill, connection, and genuine care. It’s where giving becomes an act of love—not an investment expecting a return. It flows both ways, naturally and without keeping score.

    By contrast, a transactional relationship measures worth in exchanges:

    “I bought you coffee, so you owe me a coffee.”

    In reciprocity, the heart says:

    “I bought you coffee because I wanted to do something kind. I trust that you’ll hold me in love and care when I need it most.”

    The difference may seem subtle, but emotionally and spiritually, it’s profound. Reciprocity nourishes connection. Transactionality breeds comparison, resentment, and emotional distance.

    In therapy, I often remind clients that reciprocity thrives in spaces where trust and emotional safety exist. It’s a rhythm of mutual investment—where both people are free to give from overflow, not obligation.

    Love, God, and the Waiting Season

    Lately, I’ve returned to the dating app—not out of desperation, but curiosity and openness. It’s a strange world to navigate with a tender heart and a discerning spirit. I find myself reflecting often on why I desire partnership and how I wish to love.

    Some conversations spark hope; others remind me how surface-level connection can be when rooted in transaction rather than reciprocity. There’s a quiet ache in realizing how rare it is to meet someone who’s ready to love intentionally—to listen, to give without keeping score, to see beyond what’s easy.

    And yet, even as I scroll, match, and unmatch, I still believe in divine timing. I still believe that God writes love stories differently—slowly, intentionally, with purpose and alignment. So I’m learning to wait well. To stay open, but not hurried. To protect my peace while remaining hopeful that the right heart will recognize mine.

    Spiritual Reflection, in Galatians 6:9, we’re reminded: “Let us not grow weary in doing good, for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”

    This scripture grounds me as both therapist and woman—someone holding space for others while still longing for her own sacred companionship.

    Even when my heart feels stretched thin, I remember that reciprocity—with myself, with God, and with others—is an act of trust. A form of love that doesn’t rush or demand, but rests and receives.

    As time falls back and the days grow shorter, I choose to rest, to trust what I know, and to give from love—never from depletion.

    May this November invite you, too, into warmth, rest, and a deeper understanding of how you give and receive love. And if you, like me, are waiting on God to write your love story—know that He’s still writing.

    Reflection Prompt: Where in your life do you need to trust divine timing—in love, in purpose, or in the quiet in-between?

    Be brave,

    Michelle

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle

  • The Wonder of Unfolding: On the sacred rhythm of Time, Healing and Autumn’s quiet grace.

    The Wonder of Unfolding: On the sacred rhythm of Time, Healing and Autumn’s quiet grace.

    Fall Season

    Sundays have a way of slowing me down enough to notice what time has been doing beneath the surface. The air is crisp, the light shifts, and even the trees seem to know when to release. I am in wonder of how time cloaked our struggles, yet time also reveals the required healing — the necessary strength for us to witness the why’s. In this turning season, I’m reminded that God’s work often happens quietly, layered in moments we don’t yet understand. What once felt delayed was, in truth, unfolding right on time.

    Yesterday, I attended my cousin’s wedding — my second cousin, though I still remember her as the little girl with big dreams and a contagious laugh. Watching her stand there, radiant in hope and grace, marrying again with such genuine love, felt like witnessing time come full circle. The ceremony was outdoors, framed by trees touched with autumn gold, the air soft with both memory and promise.

    At this age, I’m in awe of how love still finds us, how it gathers what’s been scattered by years, by loss, by change. Marriage has a way of reminding us that family expands even as it shifts — that though we’ve said goodbye to parents and grandparents, something sacred continues through us. It’s as if time weaves a quiet thread between what was and what is becoming, inviting us to see how love endures, how it unfolds anew.

    This morning, before I began to write, I recorded a few thoughts — just me, my voice, and the quiet of Sunday. Sunday mornings have become their own kind of prayer for me. Waking up smiling, breathing easier, releasing the heaviness of the work week and the constant pulse of motherhood, I find myself able to go to God in a way that comforts me. There’s peace in that surrender — in remembering I don’t have to hold everything together for the world to keep turning.

    I love my walks, especially now as the leaves start to fall and the air turns brisk. It’s where I feel time most gently — not rushing, not demanding, just moving with me. Each step reminds me that unfolding doesn’t require effort, only willingness. And maybe that’s what this season — this life — continues to teach me: that healing, love, and even time itself are part of a divine rhythm, one that never stops revealing what’s meant to be known in its own perfect moment.

    Rest in knowing that what’s meant for you is already moving toward you. Time, love, and grace are all working together in ways you can’t yet see.

    Be brave,

    Michelle

    ©️Intimately Worded, Michelle.

  • The Eighth Month: A Season of Shifts, Soul Work, and Soft Becoming

    The Eighth Month: A Season of Shifts, Soul Work, and Soft Becoming

    By Michelle Tillman, PsychoTherapist/Founder of Transitional Pathways, PLLC

    Graced for more💕

    August has always felt like a threshold month. The eighth out of twelve, it marks a quiet turning point—a slow descent from summer’s height into something more inward, reflective. The number eight, symbolizing new beginnings and infinite cycles, reminds me that change isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a whisper, a knowing, a sacred nudge inward.

    This August, I’m paying closer attention.

    I’m noticing how much I’ve grown through the stillness and the storms. Life, love, and relationships—each carry layers of complexity I continue to unpeel, not just as a therapist, but as a Black woman who holds space for others while learning to hold space for myself. Each interaction becomes an opportunity for reflection and growth, revealing deeper truths about my journey and the interconnectedness of our experiences.

    Parenting Through Transitions

    Parenting adult children is its own sacred terrain. There’s a constant balancing act between support and surrender, concern and trust. The role shifts from being a protector to a mirror—from telling them what to do, to showing them who I am becoming. And in that, I’m relearning who I am, too. It’s an intricate dance that requires both courage and vulnerability. As I navigate this evolving relationship, I find myself reflecting on the lessons of patience and grace that I wish to impart. There are days I want to gather them like I used to when they were small, encasing them in the warmth of my love and protection. And there are days when I sit quietly, choosing not to fill the silence, letting them figure it out—letting me figure it out. It’s hard. It’s holy. It’s human, a reminder that growth often comes in layers, revealing more of us in the process.

    The Inner Work of Love

    In love—romantic or otherwise—I’ve stopped striving for clarity at the expense of peace. I’ve learned that deeper connection doesn’t come from figuring someone out but from allowing myself to be fully known, even in uncertainty. Intimacy, for me now, feels less like pursuit and more like permission. The permission to be present, to not shrink, to not pretend I don’t need gentleness. Embracing this vulnerability has deepened my relationships in unexpected ways, fostering a sense of safety and trust that allows us to explore the beautiful complexity of our connections.

    I no longer equate urgency with care. Instead, I ask, Can this connection honor my healing pace? That question alone has brought more clarity than some relationships ever could. It’s taught me the power of setting boundaries and recognizing when a relationship fuels my spirit versus when it drains my energy.

    Spirit-Led Slow Living

    This season, I’ve been deepening my relationship with prayer, meditation, and the quiet art of slowing down. I used to think rest was the reward. Now I know it’s the way. Meditation isn’t always serene. Sometimes it’s tears. Sometimes it’s silence that says, “you’re safe now.” I’ve learned that God often speaks in the pauses between breaths, not just in the outcomes I used to chase. There is a different kind of wisdom that rises when you stop rushing. It invites you to savor life’s moments, to appreciate the beauty in the mundane, and to embrace stillness as a teacher.

    In this letting go of haste, I’ve begun to uncover the richness of my inner landscape—thoughts, feelings, dreams—and allowed them to unfold naturally.

    Holding Space for Myself

    As a therapist, I’ve witnessed transformation in others. But this year, I’ve been asked to be the witness for myself. To name my desires. To grieve what never happened. To celebrate how far I’ve come—even if no one else sees the full stretch. Healing is a personal journey, and each step brings me closer to my authentic self, reminding me that I am not defined by my past, but rather by my resilience.

    August reminds me that healing doesn’t have to be complete to be worthy. I can be tender and powerful. Grieving and grateful. Longing and whole. This dance of contradictions is where I find my strength, my joy, and my truth.

    To You, Reader:

    If you are navigating change—be it in your body, your boundaries, your beliefs—I hope you honor the pauses. I hope you let softness find you. I hope you remember that your pace is not a problem. It’s part of your becoming. Each step along this path is significant, and each moment of reflection is a gift to be cherished.

    Let August be an altar. Not to who you used to be, but to the soul you’re still discovering. Embrace this time of introspection, allowing it to guide you into deeper understanding and appreciation of both yourself and the intricate tapestry of life that connects us all.

    Always, with grace and truth.

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

    @TransitionalPathwaysPLLC

    Where healing is sacred and intimacy begins with you.

  • Navigating Relationships and Healing After Loss

    Navigating Relationships and Healing After Loss

    Without Coincidence Divine Timing Connects;

    I am deeply thankful for God’s grace and His provision.

    And in that quietness, I find myself weeping in gratitude. Smiling in reverence. Standing still in awe. God’s grace shows up again and again, sometimes wrapped in joy, sometimes in the hard beauty of becoming. His provision meets me—not always in the ways I expected, but always in the ways I needed.

    I’m learning not just to remember, but to remain—in peace, in presence, in gratitude.

    Spiritual Safety in Grief

    Grief, is a whole something else, entirely– with the loss of my father, can indeed leave us feeling untethered, almost floating, unanchored. This sense of being “lost and free, numb and unable” speaks to the spiritual disequilibrium that can accompany deep loss. When our foundational relationships, like the one with a parent, are altered, it can feel as if a protective covering has been lifted, leaving us exposed in ways we hadn’t anticipated.

    It is incredible how life’s most treasured moments can pass by in the blink of an eye. Recently, I’ve been making a conscious effort to slow things down, to truly embrace and cherish each moment. My memories unfold in slow motion, allowing me to savor them fully. I find myself smiling, shedding tears, and feeling profound gratitude for God’s grace and His continuous provision.

    In these moments of profound vulnerability, cultivating spiritual safety becomes paramount. It’s about recognizing that while earthly anchors may shift, there’s a divine tether that remains. This doesn’t mean bypassing the pain or pretending it doesn’t exist. Instead, it’s about acknowledging the hurt while actively seeking the comfort and stability that spiritual connection can offer.

    My youngest son is 18, a high school graduate, gym rat, and a mental health advocate who is truly walking in his path with empathy and compassion. His friends have their own Bible Study and have given their friendship circle the title of “Council.”

    I am entering what I believe to be one of the greatest relationships of my life…at 54. It’s hitting differently and often feels unfamiliar and fearful. I am in my 50s and dating. Menopause. Diabetes. Dating. My Light, this soft era. None of this is bad; the dating experience is questionable and rather humorous—courageously so. What I know is that it is something worth growing into; it is what my whole soul has craved. Furthermore, it is truly what my father advised me it would be. I was 23 when he told me what qualities to look for in a man, the man for me. I argued that I wouldn’t ever get married; my father passed away the next day.

    This Father’s Day was different than most. It was quiet, filled with grief, and I experienced the loss of him with deeper sadness and more love. #Grateful His impact on my life carries me. I transitioned from being protected and covered to a different type of sheltering. He was my anchor, my fallback. It’s hard to navigate this life without a father. Our selves become untethered, almost floating and unanchored. Lost and free. Numb and unable.

    Where would I be, truly, if God didn’t redirect his heart? I’m an adopted child, a loved daughter and at times I truly believe a cherished sibling. Family is our first love…be it what it is or what it was. ❤️‍🩹

    There are not too many people I share my heart with; I believe that to be a good thing. I am sharing how off kilter I have been lately with my sister-friend. Her presence in my life is actionable, tangible. My friend, my Wizard Sister said to me, “We lived for so long in isolation in so many ways…individual traumas, collective traumas and now we’re all in the early stages of reconnection getting triggered left and right (zero pun intended and…) We hurt in relationships and we heal in relationships. I am praying for your healing, sister.” @borninprovidence 🌿

    I breathe. She’s right. Foolishly yet with wisdom—thinking I thought I was healed enough; just enough. I have been doing the work, my soul work for the longest. It would seem that falling into something safe and prayed for would be simple, easier, refreshing… my heart yearns for soft, softer a forever landing.

    I encourage you to not only look up in wonderment yet learn to count the stars. Scripture Psalms 147:4 states, “He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name.”

    God’s infinite wisdom and limitless love continues to pull all of this together and not as haphazardly as we believe. Trust that purpose and pain is not the great divide we experience, yet somehow it bridges what has to happen. Love better. Love anyway. Do it because you can; you are ready.

    Intimately Worded, 

    ~Michelle

  • Finding Meaning in Stillness: You Were Made for More

    Finding Meaning in Stillness: You Were Made for More

    You Were Made for More, and You Know It

    Lately, I’ve been waking up at 4:15 a.m., not out of discipline but out of something deeper—an ache, a pull, a knowing. Maybe you’ve felt it too. That quiet nudge that whispers, You were made for more. Not in the loud, hustle culture kind of way, but in a way that sits in your chest, pressing down until you acknowledge it.

    March felt like a run-through, like a practice round where I was trying to catch up with myself. Days moved fast, responsibilities stacked up, and I was just going through the motions. And now, April has arrived, and I find myself waiting—waiting for the weight of something real, something undeniable. The heaviness of stepping fully into what I know I’m meant to be.

    But here’s the thing about more: it’s not always about doing more. Sometimes, it’s about softening. Peeling back the layers of overperformance, of proving, of moving so fast you don’t even feel your own life. Maybe more looks like stillness. Maybe it’s the kind of work that happens in the quiet moments before the world wakes up—before emails, before expectations.

    If you’ve been feeling it too, this in-between space, this waiting, know that it’s not empty. It’s not wasted. You are being prepared, strengthened, softened in ways you can’t even see yet. So, keep waking up. Keep listening. Keep allowing yourself to move toward the life that’s been calling you. Because you were made for more. And you already know it.

  • Safer Waters

    Safer Waters

    Solitude. Replenish. Grateful.

    Writer: Michelle Tillman
    Favorite Things: Summer Reads—Romance & Poetry Perfect Lip Gloss, Lavender Pens for Love Notes

    I’m moving towards safer waters not out of fear but out of love…for myself, for others.

    I love my space. I love my love for others. I’m unlearning all consuming love—unlearning the thought, that if I control IT there will not be any room for deep hurt. I am learning not to separate how I love to the way I love. I no longer hold back trying to figure out in which way I will be hurt next. Ahhh, Love.🌻 I still do not know what is the greatest way in sheltering yet I’m loving this space I have carved. My stitches of quiet time include falling in love with poetry once again. When able add, “The Sheltering” to your Readers’ List. I have included the link: https://books2read.com/KhayaRonkainen

    I have grown to value time, albeit with grace. Reading a romance novel every now and then reminds me of what love should be, without having my head in the clouds. I enjoyed reading this library find, it was just the right antidote, “The House on Blueberry Lane.” The author included just enough courage and hope to have me sipping wine, praying for rain with each turned page. Snuggling with Koda is an added #Godperk. 🐾

    As I age (with grace) —I do not believe I am lacking patience. I know that I do not like my time wasted, that’s with every aspect of life: driving, cooking, fellowship and friendship. In driving, I take the most scenic routes, away from the interstate. I am learning to cook healthier with buying strategically not just for convenience and eating well. I have upped my game with culinary knowledge. I am learning to date with care, my SelfCare. I want someone to be my greatest friend, supportive, dependable and trustworthy. I am expecting more—-without fearing what is next.

    What I know: consistency remains one of the simplest forms of love. Consistency creates stability and with stability comes structure and with structure— compassion. And so with hope imagined I’ll turn to words, books, note taking, perfect lip glosses, soul-nurturing, and prayers—-all the things that create this currency of living life possible: choosing Me.

    We have every right and reason to shine our lights, to do what is best for us and love our selves with care, truths and all the good things. No longer be afraid of what has happened—live in hope. I am more mindful of what is to come and this soul of mine—well I will always advocate for it’s navigational heart.

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

    Have courage, take heart

    “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3

  • Intentional Journey

    May is Mental Health Awareness Month

    2018-2019
    2020-2021
    December 2020
    May 2023
    #SoftLove
    Different 🔥
    (more…)

  • 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