Honoring Women’s History Month

Redefining Survival.

“Rock bottom became the solid foundation on which I rebuilt my life.”—J.K. Rowling

The first time I read You Can Heal Your Life by Louise L. Hay, I was 27, standing at the edge of a city bridge – and self-discovery – beginning the journey to understand what I was truly made of. My failing marriage was unraveling and I was raising two children alone—a reality every mother and wife dreads but hopes never to face. Fear was a constant contender, challenges felt insurmountable, and yet, amidst all the uncertainty, I encountered moments that awakened something deeper—a giant within. Finding balance in that storm seemed impossible, but that experience stretched me in ways I never imagined. It was the first time I realized I had power—real, innate power. I just didn’t know how to use it.

From the beginning to now, I have weathered a storm of adversities—the loss of a beloved father, elongated trauma from an abusive mother, the battle of suicidal darkness, giving birth at 24 weeks and 42 weeks, raising two incredible children on my own with health conditions, the deepest battle with depression, cutting ties with a toxic family, the rise of extreme health challenges, unemployment, and homelessness. I realize that I’ve survived challenges in my life that would swallow most people whole. Yet, I did more than survive—I transformed. I built a lifetime of evidence that I can overcome hard things. Every trial became a reckoning, every setback a lesson. Through it all, I forged an unshakable connection with the forces that define me: survivor, soldier, seeker, supporter, and sole custodian of my destiny.

Our survival will forever be tested, through times of great momentum especially, when we think we’ve got life all figured out. None of us have it all under control. But when the opposing moments demand our attention, our survival instincts kick in, faith takes hold, and our true resilience rises. I didn’t fully grasp this truth back then, in my younger years, but recently, life has led me back to that book—with new eyes, deeper wisdom, and a greater understanding of just how strong I have always been.

As women, we sometimes find ourselves wandering in the dark, disconnected from our purpose, our power, and most importantly, the promises God has made to us. We convince ourselves that others have it easier—that their lives are more comfortable, more certain, more fulfilled—but the truth is rarely so simple. Instead of falling into comparison, we must sharpen our discernment, extend support where we can, and offer empathy where it is needed, especially, to ourselves. When we look back—at the joys, the heartbreaks, the uncertainties, the dramas, the traumas, and the triumphs—we begin to see the patterns. Every moment, good or bad, has been shaping us, guiding us, and pushing us forward. And through hindsight, we come to realize that our past carried a purpose far greater than we once understood.

Strength.

“Being strong isn’t just brave – it’s necessary.”– Rochelle Soetan, Writer

According to the Oxford Dictionary, strength is defined as “a good or beneficial quality or attribute of a person or thing; the degree of intensity of a feeling or belief.” Strength is embedded in the very essence of women. It’s the visceral power to stand tall, mentally, physically, and morally, even when everything around them is collapsing. Survival isn’t just about getting through the storm—it’s about emerging from it, carving out new paths to joy, reclaiming self-empowerment, and building a sense of community after the wreckage. Strength doesn’t look the same for every woman. For some, it’s quiet resilience in the face of silence. For others, it’s a fierce roar for change or the unapologetic act of caring for themselves. Survival comes in many forms, but every woman’s journey—no matter how it unfolds—is valid, powerful, and relentless. Because strength isn’t just about surviving—it’s about thriving.

Resilience.

“I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it.” – Maya Angelou

Sometimes we give our best parts to people who don’t deserve them. We share our deepest truths and our strongest love with people who can’t honor them. This doesn’t make you foolish, it makes you brave. It makes you real. It means that trusting someone with your heart wasn’t a mistake, even if they proved unworthy of that trust. The beautiful thing is that you can take it all back: your trust, your love, your vulnerability. They are yours to reclaim. Yours to keep safe until someone worthy comes along. And in learning what the wrong kind of love looks and feels like, you learned how to recognize the right kind when it arrives. Those weren’t wasted moments, they were teaching moments, because if it isn’t love, it’s a lesson.

Your heart isn’t ruined because you gave it to the wrong person. It’s stronger. It’s wiser. It’s healthier. Heartbreak doesn’t just leave wounds—it forces growth – and resilience aids the transformative power of pain. In the end, heartbreak serves as a catalyst for personal growth, reclaimed identity, and a sense of purpose. After the dust settles, after you’re able to see who people really are, you then remember who YOU really are, outside of the roles you’ve played in relationships. Resilience isn’t easy, it’s earned. And it’s in that struggle that you find the strength to rebuild and rewrite what love, resilience, and strength truly mean. There may be a shortage of many things but there is never a shortage for healing. When you begin to make the simple steps to truly heal your life, you receive a blessing for your bravery.

Silence.

“Silence is not just the absence of words, it’s a force, a presence that speaks louder than any conversation ever could. It’s in that silence that the real work begins – for him, for you, for the truth of the situation to emerge. Silence is not a weapon; it’s a test. The beauty of silence is that it reveals the truth.“ – Denzel Washington

For a woman, silence is not weakness—it is power. When a relationship unravels, words turn into weapons, explanations become justifications, and the truth drowns in the noise. But silence? Silence is clarity. It speaks without speaking, cutting through the chaos in ways that are both deafening and undeniable. Silence is a woman’s refusal to beg for understanding or chase closure that will never come. It is the space where she reclaims herself, where she lets the weight of a man’s absence settle so she can finally see what is real and what is never hers to hold. Silence forces him to sit with the wreckage he created, to hear what he tried to ignore. And in that quiet, she rises—not in anger, not in desperation, but in the unwavering truth that she never needed to be heard to be free.

Rebirth.

“Pain is important: how we evade it, how we succumb to it, how we deal with it, how we transcend it.“– Audre Lorde

All storms must come to an end. And when the sky clears, we are left to confront the wreckage—the insurmountable damage, the uprooted dreams, the parts of ourselves we thought were unshakable but proved otherwise. Audre Lorde’s words are a reminder that pain is not just something to endure—it is something to transform. Survival is not the final destination; rebirth is. The real power lies in what we choose to build from the ruins, in how we reclaim the pieces of ourselves that were never truly lost—only waiting to be remembered. You can heal your life and change the balance of your power. And when the next storm comes, as it always does, you’ll stand firm—unshaken, unafraid, and unwilling to be anything less than the force you were born to be.

for women everywhere