10d • Start Here
Welcome! Introduce Yourself...
Before we go anywhere together — I want to ask you something.
What is the story that followed you here?
Not your whole life. Not every wound, every chapter, every hard thing you have ever carried.
Just the one that has been the loudest lately.
The one that shows up in your relationships before you have said a word. The one that runs in the background of every room you walk into. The one that feels less like a thought and more like a fact about who you are.
That one.
— — —
👑 I'll go first.
For most of my life, I carried the story that I was too emotional.
Not as a passing thought. As a truth. Something that lived in my chest like a permanent verdict — that the way I felt things, the depth of it, the intensity of it, was a flaw in my design. Something to be managed. Minimized. Apologized for.
So I managed it.
I got very good at shrinking what I felt. Containing it. Performing a version of myself that was easier for the world to be around. And every time I succeeded at that — every time I made myself smaller so someone else could be more comfortable — I handed another piece of myself away without even knowing it.
What I did not innerstand or understand then was where that story came from.
It came from a mother who could not meet me there.
Not because I was too much. But because she had never been given the tools to hold her own emotional world, let alone mine. She was unavailable in the ways that mattered most — the deep ways, the tender ways, the ways a little girl needs her mother to say: I see you, and what you feel is not too much for me.
She could not say that. So I filled the silence the only way a child knows how.
I decided something must be wrong with me.
That decision became a story.
That story became a part of my armor.
And I wore that armor for years — not knowing it was armor, thinking it was just who I was.
— — —
When I finally walked through the door of my own healing, I found the root of it.
And what I found was not a flaw.
I am an empath. I feel deeply. I was built to feel the room, to hold space, to sense what is unspoken, to move through the world with my whole body alive to it. That depth — the very thing I spent years trying to contain — is one of the greatest gifts I carry.
The story that I was too emotional?
It was never mine.
It belonged to a woman who did not know how to hold her own emotions and handed me the weight of that without meaning to. That is what an Inherited "I am" statement looks like. It does not always arrive as cruelty. Sometimes it arrives as silence. As an absence. As the look on someone's face when you needed too much.
And the child makes it mean something about herself.
That is the work we are here to undo.
— — —
Now it is your turn.
What story followed you here?
Drop it in the comments — as much or as little as you are ready to share. A sentence is enough. A paragraph is welcome. You are among women who understand what it means to finally say the thing out loud.
And if this landed somewhere in you — share it.
There is a woman somewhere who needs to read these words today. 🤍
I'm glad you are here with us!
— Ashley
1
0 comments
Welcome! Introduce Yourself...
powered by
skool.com/thorne-of-her-own-1648
A space for women ready to wake up, do the work, and finally meet the woman they've always been."
Suggested communities
Powered by