For the longest time, I thought I had to choose. It felt like there was a line drawn in the sand: either I lean into science, or I lean into faith. I thought they were oil and water....two different languages for two different worlds.

But the deeper I went, and let’s be honest, the harder I crashed—the more I discovered that biology and spirituality aren't rivals. They actually sit at the same table. In fact, they’re passing the salt to each other. Together, they tell the full story: my biology explains the patterns, and my faith points me to the purpose.

If you’ve ever felt like you’re "too much," or conversely, like you’re disappearing into a shell of yourself, pull up a chair. We need to talk about the biology of trauma, the grace of God, and how to stop living as a counterfeit version of yourself.

When the "Unstoppable" Woman Hits a Wall

I used to think I was unstoppable. You know the type—always in motion, over-producing, over-functioning. I wore "busy" like a badge of honor. I thought if I just kept moving, the feelings couldn't catch me.

But we never take this journey alone, no matter how tough we think we are. And eventually, the body keeps the score. Burnout stole a season of my life. It wasn’t just "I need a nap" tired; it was a soul-level exhaustion where the lights were on, but nobody was home.

That’s when the cavalry arrived. My Bible sisters, God, fellow coaches, family, and friends stood beside me at my lowest. Their prayers, phone calls, and wisdom carried me when I couldn't carry myself.

I have to give a massive shout-out to Dr. Aimie Apigian and Trauma Healing Accelerated. It was through her work that I received advanced level training in the Biology of Trauma. It was the missing puzzle piece. It introduced me to the science that finally aligned with my spirituality. It revealed how trauma, when we don't recognize it, creates a "counterfeit" version of who we are.

The Science: How We Become a "Counterfeit" Version

When early adversity and trauma hit, something happens deep inside our wiring. It’s not just in your head; it’s in your body. Science shows that when we experience inescapable heart shocks—those moments where we feel unsafe and helpless—our nervous system wires in a pattern of learned helplessness.

This isn't because you are weak. It’s because you are brilliant at surviving. Early adversity leaves marks we don’t always see. We start moving through life unconsciously, making decisions from a place of fear without even knowing it. These are normal responses to abnormal circumstances.

Key Insight: Trauma, early adversity, and family dysfunction do not make you broken, damaged, or defective. They simply shape the strategies you developed to survive the chaos.

But here is the trap. To survive, we learn to be who people want us to be. We let others dim our light so they don't feel threatened. We carry their burdens and help them shine. We slowly become a shell of ourselves.

Science tells us that early adversity actually changes brain development. Repeated exposure to stress hormones like cortisol impairs our prefrontal cortex (the reasoning center) and the hippocampus (memory and emotional regulation). When trauma happens during specific developmental windows, we get gaps. We might struggle with impulse control, social skills, or executive functioning. We carry patterns that are not who we truly are; they are adaptations we once needed to navigate life. But you can’t live your whole life wearing a winter coat just because it was cold when you were seven.

The Faith Awakening: God Without the Fluff

While my nervous system was stuck in survival mode, my soul was wrestling with God. For years, I questioned Him. I wondered why I always felt left behind, defective, or unworthy. I had this narrative running in the background that I was somehow disqualified from His love.

Then, something shifted. I decided to stop putting my trust and sense of worthiness into human hands. Humans are messy (myself included). I wanted to know the Man behind the Word.

My Bible sisters welcomed me into their study years ago, and they were a game-changer. They let me sit in silence when I felt unworthy, convinced God could never forgive me. They didn't preach at me; they sat with me. They showed me God without the fluff, without the condemnation. I love them for that. It was the beginning of a deep dive into faith—a journey that solidified the way I view others, the world, and myself. I am still a work in progress (aren't we all?), but I realized that while biology explains the mechanism of my pain, God holds the redemption of it.

Who Am I Really? (Rediscovering the Goofball)

I started to notice the patterns—the ways I shrank, silenced myself, or pretended to be what others needed me to be. After decades of living out these patterns, leading to that severe burnout, I finally had to look in the mirror and ask: Who am I really?

When I stripped away the people-pleasing and the fear, here is what I found:

• ✅ I am a goofball. I love to laugh.
• ✅ I am intelligent. And I am pretty. I am enough.
• ✅ I am capable of being in a loving relationship... even though connection can feel terrifying when you’ve been hurt.
• ✅ I love adventure and crave deep conversation. That doesn’t make me "too much." It makes me someone who builds trust.
• ✅ I can respect boundaries—my own and others.
• ✅ I still drop a curse word here and there. (I’m working on it, okay? Grace!)
• ✅ I can be a little too direct sometimes.

I realized I had lived in relationships built on potential instead of reality. I was dating or befriending the person I hoped they would become, not who they actually were. I finally did the work. And let's be real—I’m still doing it!

Rewriting the Family Rules

Families are... complicated. Every family has broken parts.

Growing up, parents (teachers, churches, community) set rules for us: when to eat, sleep, pray, and play. I followed them. But today, as an adult, I have to ask: Does this rule enhance my life, or does it constrict me?

If a rule fuels my creativity and connection to God, I’ll keep it. If it stifles me or keeps me small, I’ll let it go. We have to stop seeing things as we "created" them in our minds to feel safe and start seeing them for what they are. That is the door to true healing. Family might not always agree with your choices, but love should go deeper—unconditional and unwavering.

My Inner Child’s Voice and the Permission to Rest

My inner child longs to be appreciated for being, not just doing. I spent years in constant motion. Over-working, over-exercising, over-producing, over-thinking. They were my safety blankets. Maybe they were there to keep me from failing, or maybe they were there to keep me from remembering and feeling.

In the chaos, I learned to go numb. That coping skill saved me when I was younger, but as an adult, it was strangling my spirit. To be fully present, I had to risk feeling again. I had to let my little girl tell her whole story—even the angry, messy, ugly parts.

For the first time, I can give myself permission to rest. Not just when I’m sick. Not just when exhaustion knocks me flat. I no longer need to collapse to deserve care. I can choose to view daily mistakes as an opportunity to expand, not a reason to beat myself up. My soul is finally free to thrive.

I can discern. With safe, trustworthy people, I share openly. With strangers, I choose what feels safe. Both are allowed. Every challenge was to prepare me, every mistake an opportunity to grow.

Words That Wounded

We have to acknowledge the words that shaped us. The words that cut deepest often come from those who should have loved us unconditionally. Maybe you’ve heard versions of these, too:

Those words closed my heart for decades. But here is the truth I found through faith: These weren't excuses for my struggles. They were just realities I had to process and reframe.

Healing, Forgiveness, and Breaking the Cycle

Resilience is possible when the right healing sequence comes at the right time. For me, that meant removing toxic voices. It meant tuning out the noise. It meant leaning into faith, yes, in Jesus - and asking daily for grace and mercy. It meant learning that my worth doesn't lie in "what I do," but in "who I am."

And the hardest part? Forgiveness. “Past wounds were part of the story but not part of the destiny. What looked like punishment was preparation; rejection was actually protection.(Wayne Dyer)"

Forgiveness isn’t forgetting. It isn't excusing bad behavior. It’s removing the knives from your own heart. It's allowing grief and anger to be felt fully, and then releasing them to God. Forgiveness lets the soul breathe. As A Course in Miracles says, “All forgiveness is ultimately self-forgiveness.” I acknowledge that I’ve hurt others, too. Hurt people hurt people. But I pray today that I am a better version of myself. Freedom is more important than being right.

Stepping Into the Light

Today, I no longer need to fit into someone else’s version of “enough.” I no longer need to control every part of my environment just to feel safe. And I am no longer threatened by someone else’s light; I can stand in it with them. Bullies may have convinced me I was worthless, but God’s Word showed me the truth.

The truth is, I am no longer a counterfeit version. I am becoming who I was always meant to be. The past is honored, not relived. The wounds are recognized, not minimized. The pain was real, but it no longer defines me.

I am the author of my future, not a victim of my past. I am learning to trust in preparation disguised as delay and to embrace the divine rhythm of God’s plan.

*(I want to take a moment to honor Wayne Dyer for his incredible contribution to the world. His wisdom, teaching, and guidance have inspired countless people—including me—to look within, embrace our true selves, and trust in the unseen hand of the universe.)*

To My Sons: The Reason I Fight

If you want to know my "why," it’s my boys. To my sons: You are the reason I kept going, even when I fell flat on my face. You are the reason I fight to break generational cycles of trauma. You are the reason I keep becoming a better version of myself.

I can’t rewrite the past, but I believe the future is filled with hope. Words will never express how deeply I love you. Thank you for standing beside me, for seeing the broken parts I wanted to hide, and for loving me through them anyway. At the end of the day, my greatest prayer is that you’re proud to call me Mom... no matter how old you are.

Change Is Hard... But Worth Every Minute

If any of this resonates with you, know this: Change isn’t easy. Healing takes time, courage, and a whole lot of grace. But every brave step forward is worth it.

Every wall you tear down, every toxic voice you silence, every time you choose faith over fear—you move closer to the person you were always created to be. You don’t have to walk this journey alone.