Every time I think I've peeled back the last layer, I find another one underneath it. If I'm being honest, it's still uncomfortable. Some of these conversations and reflections aren't easy, but I know they're necessary. I know healing isn't always comfortable. Sometimes you have to sit with the things you've been avoiding so you can finally make peace with them. I'm learning that the discomfort isn't a sign to stop, it's a sign that something is changing. I'm still doing the work, still healing, still becoming..trust the process #Whenyouroldestsaysabouttime @Tiffany Gaines I'll take a year's supply of Kleenex🥹

Come closer. Not because you’re broken but because somewhere between your first song, your first silence, your first “no,” and your first goodbye… someone convinced you that your light needed permission. Tonight, we return what never belonged to fear. The Prison With No Bars Some of uswere never chained by iron. We were chained by introductions. “Be realistic.” “People like us don’t make it.” “Don’t get your hopes up.” “Who do you think you are?” Before we learned harmony, we inherited hesitation. Before we learned rhythm, we memorized retreat. Before we learned our names, we answered to wounds. There is a prison that never needed walls. Its bars are built from beliefs. Forged in family. Hammered by heartbreak. Bolted together with betrayal, bullying, comparison, and applause that arrived too late… or never came at all. Some of us walk around carrying cemeteries where confidence should have lived. Some of us mistake survival for identity. Some of us became experts at disappearing before anyone else could abandon us. We call it perfection. But perfection is often fear wearing expensive clothes. We call it patience. Sometimes it’s panic with good manners. We call it preparation. But beneath the polish is a frightened child asking, “If I never begin… they can never bury my dream.” How many masterpieces are still breathing inside notebooks? How many anthems are hiding inside “Draft 17?” How many voices have mistaken their heartbeat for background noise? You said, “I’m not ready.” No… you were ready to protect yourself. Ready to postpone possibility. Ready to delay destiny. Ready to negotiate with the very fear that never intended to leave. Because fear never asks for your whole life. Only today. Then tomorrow. Then next week. Until years become excuses wearing calendars. Listen… The mountain has never laughed at the seed. The ocean has never mocked the river for arriving small. The sunrise never apologizes for beginning in darkness. Why then do we demand that people bloom

For years, I thought opportunities were something I was supposed to be grateful for, even when they came at my expense. One of the clearest examples was a 13-city tour where I was the only artist headlining the entire run. My label paid THOUSANDS of dollars for me to be there, the person traveling with me wasn’t paid either, and I was told the exposure alone justified the cost. Looking back, I realize how BACKWARDS that was. I brought years of training, DECADES of experience, countless hours of preparation, and a performance I had spent my entire life developing. I gained fans. I gained confidence. I gained experience. But none of those things change the fact that the value I created deserved to be VALUED! The lesson wasn’t that the tour wasn’t meaningful. The lesson was that MEANINGFUL and VALUEABLE were both true at the same time. And BOTH MATTER!!!! My Permission Statement What I create comes from a lifetime of becoming. It comes from stages I’ve stood on since I was three years old. It comes from experiences I’ve survived. It comes from questions I’ve spent years asking. It comes from truths I’ve had the courage to face and share. That cost something. It cost time. It cost discipline. It cost failure. It cost vulnerability . It cost the willingness to keep showing up when nobody was watching. That’s not free. I’m allowed to be paid for the value I create. I’m allowed to set a price without shrinking it. I’m allowed to receive compensation without attaching guilt to it. I’m allowed to stop confusing exposure with opportunity. The people who support my work are not doing me a favor. They are recognizing something that was already true. My work has value. My voice has value. My perspective has value. And I’m done treating those things like they don’t. — Sirap the Hybrid

Day 1: Listen – The Week I Tell the Truth Day 1 – The Thing I Never Said Soundtrack: Save Me Sentence:“I kept calling it love because I was afraid to call it loneliness.” Journal Entry:I have been touched and still felt unseen.I have been wanted and still felt unloved.I have given parts of myself away hoping somebody would finally stay long enough to understand me. The thing I never said is that I was tired. Not just tired from relationships.Tired from performing like I was okay.Tired from pretending I did not care.Tired from acting like being chosen for a moment was enough to feed a heart that was starving for safety. I gave access to my body when what I needed was emotional safety. That is hard to admit. Because people judge women for how they survive loneliness.They judge what we accepted.They judge how long we stayed.They judge who we let come back.They judge the bed, but never ask about the emptiness. But I know the truth now. I was not chasing attention.I was trying to feel held.I was trying to feel picked.I was trying to feel like somebody saw the woman under the strength. And today, I am done lying to myself. Daily Action:Write the one sentence you have been afraid to say out loud. Start with: “The thing I never said is I kept calling it love Just write it. Affirmation:“The truth loses power over me the moment I tell it.” Day 2 – Name the Feeling Soundtrack: Free Daily Action:Identify your feelings. Today, I am feeling: - Angry - Lonely - Embarrassed - Hopeful - Tired - Empty - Afraid - Numb - Ready Journal Entry:I used to call everything “fine” because fine was easier than explaining the storm. Fine was my mask.Fine was my armor.Fine was how I kept people from asking questions I was not ready to answer. But I was not fine. I was disappointed.I was grieving.I was confused.I was ashamed of needing love so badly that I accepted pieces of it. Today, I will stop making my feelings invisible. My anger has a name.My sadness has a name.My hope has a name.My loneliness has a name.

DAY 1 — THE THING NEVER SAID I am Abraham’s daughter. For most of my life, I carried a story that never belonged to me. Before I was old enough to understand what was happening, I was accused of being someone else’s child. My grandmother believed that I was her husband’s daughter and accused my mother of something that was not true. Because of that belief, my mother and I suffered years of emotional, verbal, and physical abuse. My biological father was incarcerated before I was born, and although he eventually made it known that I was his daughter, the damage had already been done. I grew up carrying accusations that were never mine to carry. The truth is: I am Abraham’s daughter. DAY 2 — NAME THE FEELING For years I called myself strong, but underneath that strength were feelings I never gave names to. The emotions I carried were: - Rejection - Confusion - Anger - Loneliness - Fear - Shame - Sadness - Abandonment - Resentment - Determination I spent so much of my life trying to prove that I was different, worthy, and deserving of love that I never stopped long enough to name what I actually felt. DAY 3 — THE UNSENT LETTER Dear Grandmother, You made me fight a battle that was never mine. I spent years trying to prove that I belonged. I spent years trying to prove that I was worthy. I spent years trying to outrun accusations that were placed on me before I even knew who I was. The little girl who wanted your love eventually learned that she could not earn it. I watched my mother suffer. I watched our relationship suffer. I watched you choose a story over the truth. Even when you found out the truth you told I wasn’t gonna never mount upto shit. And while I cannot change what happened, I can finally release the responsibility of carrying it. I forgive myself for believing that your rejection meant that I was unworthy. I release the burden that never belonged to me. DAY 4 — BEFORE IT HAPPENED Before the accusations. Before the rejection. Before the family wounds.