Resurrecting The Creative Voice

#surrendertouncertainty #embracetheunknown #letgotogrow #strongheartwarrior #boldinthestorm #riseinuncertainty #trusttheunfolding @betrayal @healingafterbetrayalbyapartner @infidelity @learningtotrustagainafterbetrayal @neurodiversity @traumainformed Nov 02, 2025

“The creative adult is the child who survived.” – Ursula K. Le Guin

When I was younger, I was told more than once that I could never make money being creative. Productivity and ambition were celebrated, but creativity? That was seen as frivolous, impractical, even a waste of time. So, I tucked that part of myself away. I let it die quietly, convincing myself that chasing “real” goals mattered more than nurturing my soul.

But creativity never truly dies. It waits. It lingers like an ember, ready to ignite when you finally breathe life into it again.

When I began to heal, that part of me came back fiercely. Writing became not just an outlet, but a resurrection. And this year, I’ve seen two of my dreams come alive in ways I once thought impossible.

The first time I was published was my story in The Gifts of Pain, a collection that explores how hardship can transform into resilience and growth. That moment cracked something open in me—it reminded me that my voice mattered, that my words could live beyond my journal pages.

Then, in May, my poem was published in Raw Motherhood: A Collection of Poems and Prose to Honor the Joy and Pain in the Journey. This anthology, compiled by Elayna Fernández, brings together over 100 writers from around the world to share the raw, unfiltered truths of motherhood—the joy, the struggle, the resilience, and the love.

This is the piece that poured out of me when I finally gave myself permission to write again — when I stopped shrinking and started letting my voice take up space. Here is my poem, as it appears in the book:

Judgment’s Shadow

In the quiet corner where whispers linger,

A mother stands, her resolve unbroken.

Bruises may not mark her skin,

But her heart bears the scar of all those words, Sharp as daggers, cutting deep in her fragmented soul.

The world looks on with the coldest eyes, Unaware of the strength she had to carry.

For in her courage, her children never knew, She fought for them with every breath.

The world judges her for leaving. But they don’t know the cost of staying.

To remain in fear, to endure the pain, Is to lose herself and continue the bad dream.

Her children’s souls are her guiding light, As she steps bravely into the unknown, And finds her own safety, And soothing healing within.

Each step became a silent prayer, To find inner peace,

And fortitude she never knew existed.

Her child may never understand, the sacrifices she had to make,

The silent stand alone.

Breaking down the chains of generational pain, And having the fearlessness to leave a legacy, where only love remains.

So, do not judge what you don’t understand.

This mother’s love is fierce. She left behind a world that betrayed her,

So that her children could have a chance at life.

A Lesson in Healing

Sometimes when bad things happen in our lives, the voice of “not good enough” screams the loudest. It tells us we don’t deserve good things—success, love, joy, creativity, health. But healing, I’ve learned, is a kind of unlearning.

You’ve always been enough. The wounds others projected onto you—their pain, their brokenness, their pile of burdens—were never yours to carry.

It’s not yours anymore.

You are worthy of all the dreams you buried away. You are worthy of joy. You are worthy of love. You are worthy of creating a life that feels like your own.

When Healing Shifts the Atmosphere

Healing doesn’t just transform your inner world — it shifts the atmosphere around you. As I’ve stepped into my dreams and begun living more fully, I’ve noticed something unexpected: some people have felt intimidated by my growth, as if my light somehow casts a shadow on theirs.

It’s strange, because when I kept myself small, when I shrank into the background, no one seemed to notice me at all. But now that I’m standing in my light, it can stir something in others.

Here’s what I want to say: I’m still me. I haven’t become someone unreachable — I’ve simply remembered who I always was, before everything happened. And instead of feeling intimidated, I hope people can feel inspired.

Because I didn’t heal just for me, or even just for my kids. I healed to show that it’s possible. All of it — the dreams, the healing, the inner peace, the beautiful life.

It doesn’t matter who you were or what has happened to you. You can still make your life beautiful.

Being published twice this year has reminded me that the creative part of me isn’t gone—it’s resurrected. And it’s stronger than ever.

If you’ve ever tucked away your creativity, your vision, your dream—know this: it’s not lost. It’s waiting for you. And when you choose to step into it, you’ll find that it’s been waiting to resurrect you, too.

Take the risk. Believe in yourself. Your dreams are absolutely possible.

Your Turn

What dreams do you think are impossible because of the past? What have you tucked away? What part of your soul is waiting to come out? What would your life look like if you stopped shrinking and let yourself take up space? What story, song, or vision have you silenced that’s ready to be heard? What would happen if you believed—even for a moment—that you are already enough?

Resurrecting The Creative Voice

Judgment’s Shadow

A Lesson in Healing

When Healing Shifts the Atmosphere

Your Turn

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