Tag: Self-Awareness

  • Wholeness Doesn’t Mean You’re Always Okay: Holding Space for the Messy Middle

    Wholeness Doesn’t Mean You’re Always Okay: Holding Space for the Messy Middle

    There’s this quiet pressure in healing culture that whispers, “If you’re doing the work, you shouldn’t still feel like this.”

    But real healing—soul-deep, identity-shifting, root-pulling healing—is not linear, polished, or predictable.

    Wholeness does not mean you’re always okay.

    It means you’re always becoming.

    Some days you’ll feel like the woman you prayed to become. Other days, you’ll feel like the girl who needed rescuing. And both can exist within you. At the same time. Without contradiction. Without shame.

    The Lie of Constant Progress

    We’re taught to measure growth by progress. By movement. By proof. But some of the deepest healing happens in stillness—in the unseen choices, in the quiet no’s, in the tears you don’t post, in the days you show up without makeup or a plan, and still breathe through it.

    There is no perfect version of you waiting at the end of the path. You’re not a problem to be solved. You are a process unfolding.

    This Is What the Messy Middle Looks Like:

    You set boundaries, then second-guess them.

    You choose softness, then feel exposed.

    You reclaim your worth, then catch yourself trying to earn it.

    You feel proud and still deeply tired.

    This is not a setback. It’s the space in between—where you grieve, recalibrate, and re-learn what safety feels like in your body.

    Holding Space for All of You

    You are not meant to heal in a straight line. You are allowed to pause. To feel joy and grief within the same breath. To still long for clarity while honoring how far you’ve come. To admit that even as a whole woman, sometimes you’re just… tired.

    Stop waiting until you feel “more together” to show up for your life. You are already whole. Even when you wobble. Even when you cry. Even when you can’t explain why you feel the way you do.

    This is the brave part of healing no one talks about: allowing the mess and the magic to sit beside each other.

    Let that be enough today.

    If this resonated with you, take a moment to explore more essays inside The Soft Power Journal. Each piece is a quiet return to truth, softness, and soul.

  • Softness Is Not the Absence of Strength—It’s the Mastery of It

    Softness Is Not the Absence of Strength—It’s the Mastery of It

    I used to believe that strength had to be hard. That in order to be respected, I had to be loud. That in order to be safe, I had to be guarded. That in order to be taken seriously, I had to carry a sharp tongue and a thick wall.

    But the truth is…

    I was tired.

    There’s a moment in your healing when you realize that what you once called strength was actually survival. That the version of you who fought through the storm was necessary—sacred, even—but not meant to stay. And what comes next is terrifying in its own way: softness.

    Not weakness. Not fragility. Not naïveté.

    Softness.

    The softness that says, I don’t need to prove anything to be powerful.

    The softness that says, I can express without explaining. I can lead without force. I can feel deeply without drowning.

    The softness that knows the difference between being in control and being in alignment.

    Softness is the nervous system healed.

    It’s your inner child safe.

    It’s the grown woman who’s no longer performing strength, but embodying it.

    Because strength that comes from exhaustion will eventually collapse.

    But strength that comes from softness—real, regulated, rooted softness—is unshakeable.

    So no, softness is not the absence of strength.

    It’s the mastery of it.

    It’s what happens when you’ve done the work to feel safe inside your own body again. When you’ve stopped over-explaining, stopped people-pleasing, stopped shrinking or overcompensating. It’s when you’ve learned to move from discernment, not defense.

    Softness isn’t passive. It’s powerful.

    It takes radical trust to walk softly in a loud world.

    It takes discipline to stay gentle when the world told you to harden.

    And it takes courage to reclaim the parts of yourself you once silenced for the sake of survival.

    But here’s the truth:

    Your softness is not a liability. It’s your legacy.

    So if you’re in a season of becoming—of learning to return to softness after survival—I see you.

    And I want you to know: that’s not weakness. That’s your evolution.

  • The Art of Balancing Strength and Softness

    The Art of Balancing Strength and Softness

    For so long, I believed that strength meant being unshakable—pushing through pain, holding my ground, and never letting anyone see me falter. Softness, on the other hand, felt like vulnerability, something to be hidden away to avoid being hurt. But over time, life has shown me that true power lies in the balance between the two. Strength and softness aren’t opposites; they are complementary forces that, when embraced together, create a life of harmony and resilience.

    A Personal Reflection: When Strength Became My Shield

    There was a time in my life when I thought my strength was my greatest asset. But what I didn’t realize was that I was using it as a shield—a way to protect myself from the vulnerability I feared so deeply.

    I remember moments when my fear of being unsupported, unheard, or misunderstood pushed me to lash outnot just with my words, but sometimes physically. At the time, I believed I was standing my ground, proving I couldn’t be walked over. But in reality, I was allowing my pain to control me. My words, meant to make me feel powerful, instead caused distance. My actions, meant to protect me, only deepened the wounds I was trying to avoid.

    Looking back, I realize that my reactions didn’t come from strength; they came from fear. I was terrified of being vulnerable, of letting anyone see my struggles. So, I overcompensated. I built walls. I used anger and aggression as my armor, convincing myself that no one could hurt me if I was always on the offense. But instead of protecting me, those moments only isolated me further.

    The truth is, true strength isn’t in how forcefully we defend ourselves—it’s in our ability to be honest about what we need, what we feel, and what we fear.

    Redefining Strength and Softness

    It took time, reflection, and painful lessons for me to see that strength and softness were not opposites. They were two sides of the same coin.

    • Strength is in standing tall, but it’s also in knowing when to be still.
    • Softness is in being open, but it’s also in having the wisdom to walk away from what doesn’t serve you.

    As I began to heal, I started to redefine what these two forces meant in my life. Strength wasn’t about building walls—it was about having the courage to let people in. Softness wasn’t weakness—it was a quiet power that allowed me to listen, to understand, and to grow.

    Lessons from Motherhood: Embracing Both Energies

    My journey into motherhood deepened my understanding of this balance. My daughter helped me embrace my feminine energy—the power of nurturing, intuition, and grace. Through her, I learned that being soft doesn’t mean being passive—it means leading with love.

    When I had my son, he challenged me to rethink masculinity—not just in the world but in myself. He showed me that strength can be protective and stable without being aggressive. Through him, I learned that my masculine energy wasn’t about dominance—it was about courage, discipline, and providing a foundation of security.

    Together, my children taught me that to truly shine in their lives—and in my own—I needed both energies. I needed the fire and the water, the steel and the silk, the assertiveness and the surrender.

    How to Embrace Duality in Your Life

    Balancing strength and softness doesn’t happen overnight; it’s a daily practice. Here are three ways I’ve learned to cultivate harmony:

    1. Pause Before Reacting – When faced with a challenge, take a breath. Ask yourself if the situation calls for firm strength, gentle softness, or a mix of both.

    2. Honor Your EmotionsIt’s okay to cry, to feel deeply, to let your softness show. That’s where healing begins.

    3. Set Boundaries with KindnessBeing strong doesn’t mean being harsh. You can protect your peace while still moving with grace and compassion.

    Embracing the Balance

    True power isn’t about choosing between strength and softness—it’s about knowing when to lean into each one. Those moment of misused strength taught me the importance of vulnerability and balance.

    When you embrace both, you create a life that is full, rich, and authentic.

    So, I invite you to reflect:

    Where in your life can you soften, and where can you stand stronger?

    Share your thoughts in the comments—I’d love to hear how you’re balancing your own duality.

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