The Voice in Your Head Isn’t Alone

I was a little girl when a man put his hand on my head and called me anointed. Sure, thanks—wrap it up, cape included. Even then, I wore it like my own badge of defiance, my own stubborn nature. But the compliment got swallowed somewhere in the chaos of being violated.

People tried to talk me into “reframing” it, “finding the silver lining,” like life is a Pinterest board you can just recolor. Nope. Some things can’t be prettified. You live with them, like everyone lives with their annoying habits and calls them justified. That’s now part of me, no amount of polishing can change that. And anyone who can’t love that? Well, they don’t even love their own life, their own potential for abundance, anointing, or truth.

Life is bold. Life is unapologetic. It isn’t what you call your experience—that’s just the appetizer. The main course is deeper, and it doesn’t need your applause, your hashtags, or your approval. But if you learn to shut up and actually listen in the quiet, something happens. I don’t know how. I’m not enough to explain it. But it works. It liberates. It doesn’t punish. It doesn’t judge. It doesn’t ask you to rename it, repackage it, or forget it. It just exists. And once you hear it? You can’t outrun it. You can’t escape it.