There was a man who once measured his strength by how much he could carry. He carried responsibility.He carried love.He carried his children in his arms and his community in his heart. And then one day, life placed something in his body that he could not simply muscle through. Pain. Not the sharp lesson of a single wound, but the relentless tide of chronic pain and nausea—arriving without invitation, without schedule, without apology. Some days it whispered. Some days it roared. Some days it stole his ability to walk, to drive, to show up. And on those days, Mark Edward felt something heavier than the pain itself: The quiet, corrosive fear that he was letting people down. He had always been someone others could lean on. And now there were days when he couldn’t trust his own brain to keep him steady in reality. Days when fear of the unknown and old echoes of trauma blurred the edges of the world. Days when isolation felt safer than being seen. And yet… even in the middle of suffering, something extraordinary was forming. Because pain, as cruel as it seemed, was chiseling him. It slowed him down enough to notice the tremor in another person’s voice. It sharpened his awareness of presence. It stripped away the trivial and revealed the sacred. Where others rushed, Mark learned to sit.Where others avoided discomfort, he breathed inside it.Where others offered advice, he offered understanding. Still, at night, there was the loneliness. A quiet question:If people saw me exactly as I am—limited, hurting, uncertain—would they still want to stay? And that question was the dragon. Not the pain. The belief that he had to be whole to be worthy.Strong to be loved.Reliable to belong. But somewhere deep in his unconscious—beneath fear, beneath survival—another truth was waiting. It whispered: You are not loved for your capacity. You are loved for your presence. And when that truth began to dawn, something shifted. The pain did not magically vanish. But its tyranny did.

I had the honour of receiving a storyteller reading from the very gifted @Rena Nicole. She has the ability to craft beautiful and profound stories and anthems for people, just by asking them a few questions. If you haven't booked a a reading with her yet, I highly recommend you do! Listening to the anthem she created for me brought tears to my eyes. I felt the emotions and vibrations of this song through my body. Have a listen to this anthem, and let me know what you think 💛: “I Rise” I used to stand at the edge of the room Heart beating loud like a warning in bloom Watching the world while I stayed in the shade Smiling outside while I quietly frayed I told myself I was just not that kind The one who could speak with a fearless mind But deep in the silence a fire would say You were not born just to hide away Every tremble, every doubt Every fear I lived without Wasn’t there to make me small It was the doorway through it all So I rise Bigger than fear, bigger than shame I’m not here to play small again I’ve got a voice, I’ve got a flame And I will not disappear again I’m stepping out, I’m standing tall Even if my hands still shake I was never meant to hide at all I’m the hero that my heart will make I used to think I had to be right Perfect and polished to stand in the light But truth came in like a sacred wind You don’t need armor to begin I learned that courage is not feeling none It’s taking the step when the fear still comes And every moment I stay with me Becomes the proof of who I’m meant to be Every silence, every scar Only showed me who You are Deep within, the wiser voice Saying, Wendy, now it’s time to choose So I rise Bigger than fear, bigger than shame I’m not here to play small again I’ve got a voice, I’ve got a flame And I will not disappear again I’m stepping out, I’m standing tall Even if my hands still shake I was never meant to hide at all I’m the hero that my heart will make