We’ve all heard the saying: “Hurt people hurt people.” And it’s true—people who carry deep pain often project that pain onto others. They lash out, shift blame, dismiss your feelings, or twist your words. Maybe you’ve felt this firsthand. Maybe you’ve poured your heart into someone, only to be met with criticism, anger, or silence. It’s draining, isn’t it?

Being mistreated—especially by someone you love—can leave you feeling invisible and questioning yourself. You start wondering, “What’s wrong with me? Why do they treat me this way?” But here’s the truth:

Dear Readers,

Let’s clear something up right now:

Struggling doesn’t make you weak.

Needing help doesn’t make you broken.

Getting support isn’t something to be ashamed of — it’s strength in its rawest form.

We live in a culture that rewards the hustle. We’re praised for “toughing it out,” for being independent, for staying quiet and handling things behind the scenes.

But at some point, silence starts to feel like suffocation.

And the strongest thing you can do… is breathe anyway.

Some of us grew up thinking we had to survive everything on our own. We weren’t taught how to talk about pain. We were taught how to

Dear Readers,

We’ve all had days we wish we could erase.

Words we wish we hadn’t said.

Doors we wish we hadn’t slammed.

People we wish we hadn’t hurt.

Versions of ourselves we never wanted anyone to see.

Maybe for you, it was one bad decision — or maybe it was a whole season of spiraling. Either way, it left you questioning your worth. You wonder if people look at you differently now. You wonder if God does too.

Let me remind you of something sacred and true:

God does not hold your worst day against you.

He doesn’t define you by the moment you broke down, messed up, gave in, shut off, or acted out. He doesn’t throw your regrets back in your face like people do. He doesn’t whisper your failures behind your back.

He already knows the ugliest parts of your story — and He still chose you.

That bad day didn’t shock Him.

That mistake

Dear Readers,

During our weekly women’s Bible study, my sister asked a question that didn’t just land — it lingered.

“What name have you been answering to that God never gave you?”

At first, it sounded like a simple reflection. One of those pause-and-think-for-a-second questions.

But then, the room fell quiet.

And in the stillness, I realized: this was not a surface-level question. It was a soul-level one.

Because if we’re being honest, most of us have been answering to names we were never meant to carry.

We’ve been responding to labels given to us by pain, by people, by pressure.

We’ve accepted definitions that were born out of trauma, criticism, or comparison — and we’ve worn them like identity badges.

Names like: