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🚨 PLEASE EXCUSE THE FADED ENTRY VOICE DEFECTS! “I was not about to redo this audio for that! New microphone coming soon” 😆

🚨Post also includes never seen before photos ⬇️

What you’re about to hear is deeply personal.

This story isn’t just about my daughter’s awakening.

It’s about mine too.

Her journey raw, intense, and sacred was one of the hardest chapters of my life. It tested everything in me as a mother and as a human. And yet, it became the fire that refined me. The storm that cracked me open… and let the light in.

I included this in the podcast because I believe some stories especially the hard ones are meant to be shared. They remind us that even when everything feels like it’s falling apart, something beautiful might be taking shape beneath the rubble.

Before we begin, you’ll hear a song I wrote about her.

It’s from my Cut Room Floor album my most private body of work. That album is a quiet, honest retelling of my life up until now. And this track… this one came straight from my soul during one of the hardest seasons.

This is for anyone who’s ever loved through the storm.

And came out changed.

I want to take a moment to honor the one who cracked me open.The one who went first.This episode is a reverent offering to my daughter.She’ll remain unnamed here, but her impact? Eternal.

Main Story

In 2019, something happened that I wasn’t prepared for.My daughter was 20 years old at the time brilliant, beautiful, and determined.And something in her soul began to stir, hard and fast.A spiritual unraveling, a mental reboot, a collapse before the rise.At the time, I didn’t have the words for what was happening.Now I do.She was awakening.And I her mother, the woman who had raised her, bathed her, cheered for her, held her first tearsI watched her slip into a space I couldn’t reach.I nearly lost my mind watching her lose hers.It started as a search for truth.She dove deep into religion, Christianity specifically, looking for the right path, the right prayers, the right way to save herself.She read scripture like it was a map home.She fasted, meditated, studied, wept trying to be perfect.Trying to earn something she didn’t know she already carried.That’s how she is.When something grips her heart, she doesn’t let go until she finds her answer.But that search…It took her mind to the edge.She overloaded her own system trying to outrun the fear that religion placed in her spirit.And I….I was helpless.This was the first time in motherhood that my hands felt tied.I wasn’t watching my baby take her first steps or win another art contest.I was watching her forget her name.I thought she’d had a stroke.The medical part of me was convinced something had gone terribly wrong.But it wasn’t a stroke.It was a spiritual earthquake.And I wasn’t just a witness.I was about to become a student.Let me go back.From the moment she was born, I knew she was different.She walked at 10 months, potty trained by 11.She ran her own bath water by 3.She threw her pacifier one day mad, dramatic, declaring herself done.And she was. I never gave it back.Her art? Otherworldly.She won awards in every grade. Her drawings seemed to breathe.She was always independent. Always intense.And pastors even prophesied over her when she was a baby, calling her chosen.I believe that to my core.So when her awakening came violent and fast I should’ve known it wasn’t the end.It was the break before the breakthrough.I had a dream once before it all happened…In the dream, her head was hit by the hood of a car hard.I felt it in my body.Now I know. That dream was a warning and a preparation.Because when her mind cracked open, it cracked something in me too.And that’s why I’m telling this story.Because her transformation changed my life.She became a sacred link in my becoming.She was sent to go first not because she was broken,but because she was built for truth.She told me one day after the fear had lifted that she had found her answer.That hell is real, but not in the way we were taught.Hell is a mental prison. A belief system.And if you believe in it hard enough, it’ll become your reality.But just like that so is Heaven.She lived in that mental hell.Felt it. Believed it.And then something Divine showed her the truth.The fear lifted. The anxiety gone.Just like that.Today, she’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.She wrote a novel. Drew every character in it.She’s creating worlds now with her art, her words, her light.And she doesn’t second guess who she is anymore.Through her, I finally understood the power of the mind.Mental health is no small thing.The mind is a garden.And you cannot afford to plant weeds and expect roses.If you constantly feed fear…If your eyes and ears are open to things that don’t honor your peace…Your life will mirror that.Everything is frequency.Everything is choice.If you obsess over chocolate ice cream for three days straight,don’t be surprised when it shows up.This isn’t magic.This is design.This is creation.You’re doing it already might as well do it on purpose.I started watching my thoughts.I started feeding my mind with beauty, truth, peace.I became deliberate.And little by little, life shifted.Why?Because I chose to shift me first.We are not here to suffer.We are not here to fear.We are not here to earn love, or chase heaven, or avoid hell.We are here to remember who we are: creators.Divine fragments of a vast, intelligent universe.And we are powerful.So today, I honor my daughter.Not just for surviving that storm,But for walking me through mine.She cracked the sky open so I could see clearly.And if you’re listening to this and your mind has felt heavy,If your soul has felt shaken,If you’ve watched someone you love suffer and not known how to help…Know this:You are not alone.And none of this is punishment.It’s the path.And it can become the portal.Ask your angels.Ask for guidance.Say it out loud even if you don’t know what to ask.Your soul already knows the question.And the answer is already on its way.

To my daughterYou are the flame that lit my own.You were never broken. You were blazing.Thank you for showing me what awakening really looks like.Not soft. Not poetic.But real, raw, holy, and whole.I love you.And I’ll never stop honoring you for the role you played in my rebirth.