Phoenix Rising

I will never understand how people, even family—especially family—will think the worst of you based solely off of another’s word, like it’s infallible gospel. That word, that LIE left unchecked, festered over time. Silence from all sides created a reeking, infected wound and while trying to heal it, they poured salt into it, prolonging the suffering. 

Actions will always speak louder than words. Always. So, while the world might see a successful, church going, doting, family centric, charismatic person—I see you. Your god sees you. I know enough about you by your actions, by how you treated me and my children, and my heart has forced you out over the years like a splinter. 

We are strangers, all of us. 

But I will be telling my story, unabridged, so there will be no misunderstanding about what happened to me and what led to the decisions I had to make for my survival—to do what was best at the time for my two young daughters, when not one person offered us a helping hand. 

I’m not telling a woe-is-me sob story. No one escapes suffering in this life. Mine is an inspirational story of three women who were forged by the red hot flames of hell and who walked out the other side, unbreakable. There is unimaginable power in rising from your own ashes, and with that destruction and resurrection comes a third eye kind of clarity. 

Why don’t you follow along, you know you want to.