Let’s welcome @Kimberly Balogh to the community.

I was five years old when I learned a word that would haunt me for decades. Jezebel. I didn’t know what it meant. I only knew my mother was being taken away in a police car. I only knew I was crying. I only knew I was running after her, begging her not to leave. And I only knew that before the car door closed, she looked at me and said: “This is all your fault.” At five years old, I believed her. I believed I was bad. I believed I wasn’t worthy. I believed I wasn’t lovable. I believed bad girls get left behind. For years, those beliefs followed me. Through foster homes. Through abuse. Through addiction. Through relationships. Through every place I searched for love while secretly believing I didn’t deserve it. What I know now is this: A wounded child will spend a lifetime trying to prove they are worthy of love. Until one day they realize they always were. Today, I am not that little girl standing in the rain. I am a mother. A grandmother. A survivor. A healer. An author. And I wrote the book I wish that little girl could have read. 📖 Writing Into the WoundThe Little Girl Who Survived Because healing begins the moment we stop carrying shame that never belonged to us. If you have ever felt abandoned, rejected, unseen, or not enough, this book is for you. ❤️ If this speaks to your heart, leave a comment with one word you needed to hear as a child. Mine was: “Protected.”

Phoenix, We did it. Sit with that for a moment… we actually did it. You let go of everything that was never meant to go where you’re going. You kept only what aligns, what sustains, what supports your purpose. That wasn’t just moving—it was initiation. It was trust in its purest form. You chose this moment with intention. The spring equinox… a perfect balance of light and dark. The new moon in Pisces… endings dissolving into infinite possibility. The closing of a lunar cycle… and with it, the closing of a version of you that could never come with you into this next chapter. You didn’t stumble into this—you aligned with it. And I need you to hear this clearly: I am so proud of you. This past year asked everything of you. It stripped you. Tested you. Pressed on every wound you tried to hide from. There were moments you could’ve numbed out, walked away, chosen easier paths—but you didn’t. You stayed. You looked within. You told the truth. You held yourself accountable in ways most people never dare to. You didn’t just heal—you transformed. You broke cycles that didn’t start with you. You faced generational pain and said, “It ends here.” And you did it without applause. Without validation. In silence. That kind of strength is sacred. Even when everything was being removed—when it didn’t make sense, when it hurt deeper than you could explain—you trusted. You allowed Divine to clear the path, even when that meant letting go of what felt like pieces of your heart. Especially your children… not as a loss, but as a divine realignment. A sacred pause so you could become the version of yourself they will one day fully understand. You learned to sit in your feminine. To soften without breaking. To receive without guilt. To feel without running. And at the same time, you began to understand what it means to be held—truly held—by masculine energy that protects, provides, and creates safety instead of chaos. You leaned in. You listened. You learned. And when it got dark—because it did—you prayed. You held onto faith when there was nothing visible to hold onto. You remembered the promises. The ones Divine made to you… and the ones you made to yourself. You didn’t abandon yourself this time. That matters more than anything.

We have hit a milestone. We are at 39 members. Let’s welcome everybody. I’m so proud of you for stepping into this healing space with an open mindset as well as the desire to change the way that we think through writing and healing those past traumas through writing.

This is what healing looks like