The Change ..

Here I Am: A Reckoning With Change and the Power of Vulnerability

Change doesn’t knock. It tears through.Uninvited. Inconvenient. Relentless.

And in the wreckage of what once was, you stand—not as the victim of its storm, but as the sovereign witness of your own becoming.

We’ve been taught that strength means to endure. To hold it all together. To smile while breaking. To carry burdens like trophies of silent suffering.

But I no longer worship that kind of strength.

Strength is not the clenched jaw. Strength is not the tight grip. Strength is standing barefoot in the truth of who you are. Naked. Raw. Unapologetically human. And saying, Here I am.

The Dross Must Burn

Through the fuckery—yes, all of it—the noise, the betrayal, the disappointments, the stories we outgrew—we are invited to move. Not to bypass. Not to pretend. But to move.

To embody the wisdom we’ve earned in the fire. To clear the dross of what no longer belongs. To take empowered responsibility—not for the chaos that came to test us, but for who we choose to become because of it.

We aren't victims of change. We are the sacred alchemists of it.

Grace Isn't Passive

Grace is not some soft, ethereal concept. Grace is a sword. A balm. A boundary and an embrace.

Grace says, I see the mess. I feel the pain. And I will still choose love. Not a love that abandons truth, but a love that holds you accountable to your highest integrity.

When you rise in grace, you no longer abandon yourself to be palatable for others. You become a living permission slip for others to do the same.

To Bare Your Soul Is Revolutionary

It takes nothing to hide. It takes everything to reveal.

To bare your soul is the wildest act of rebellion in a world addicted to image. To strip down to your skin and say,"This is me. I’m not perfect. But I am real."

That’s not weakness. That is strength forged in vulnerability. That is your medicine.

So if you’re in the midst of it—wading through the mud, reckoning with your truth, grieving your illusions—remember this:

You are not broken. You are remembering. You are shedding the weight of who you thought you had to be. You are rising as who you’ve always been.

And That, Beloved, Is Power

Not the kind that dominates. The kind that liberates.

Change will keep coming. But so will your courage. So will your voice .So will your grace.

And when you meet the next wave—meet it not with armor, but with truth.

Stand tall. Speak soul. And whisper to the storm:

“Here I am.”

💛 Trace xXx

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