📖 I’m Writing My Story — And It’s Changing Me

Telling the Truth at the Pace of Healing

I’m writing my story.

Not the cleaned-up version.

Not the one with tidy lessons or spiritual platitudes layered over unbearable moments.

I’m writing the story of what actually happened—

in my body, in my faith, in my nervous system, in my relationships.

I’m writing it because there are pieces of me that survived by disappearing—

and this book is the place they are finally allowed to speak. 🕊️

I didn’t start this book because I wanted to be an author.

I started it because my body wouldn’t let me not.

I’m writing it because my silence kept me safe and was applauded,

even as it quietly shrank me and cost me everything.

There comes a moment in healing when truth begins to press outward—

not loudly, but insistently.

The cost of holding it becomes greater than the risk of telling it.

This book began there.

✍️ Writing Through Trauma (The Part No One Talks About)

Writing through trauma is not cathartic in the way people imagine.

It doesn’t feel like release at first.

It feels like resistance, exhaustion, fear, and grief rising all at once.

Some days I open a chapter and my chest tightens before I read a single sentence.

My hands hover over the keyboard.

My mind goes blank.

I suddenly want to binge Netflix, answer emails—do anything but write.

I used to call that avoidance.

Now I understand it as communication.

From a trauma-informed lens, my nervous system doesn’t know the difference between remembering and reliving.

Certain chapters don’t just ask for words—

they ask my body to revisit experiences it once survived by numbing, spiritualizing, or staying very, very composed.

So I write slowly.

🧘‍♀️I pause when my breath shortens.

I stop when my body says enough.

This isn’t weakness.

This is consent.

🔥 Writing as an Act of Repair

Spiritually, this book has reshaped how I understand truth.

Truth, I’m learning, isn’t something you declare from a mountaintop.

It’s something you stay present with while your knees are shaking.

There are chapters I finish and sit quietly afterward—

grieving people I lost, versions of myself that never got to exist,

and beliefs that once promised safety but delivered harm.

There are other days when writing feels grounding… even holy.

✨Not because the content is beautiful—but because I’m still here while telling it.

I’m no longer abandoning myself for meaning.

This book isn’t a performance.

It’s a reclamation.

🌱 What This Process Is Giving Me

Something unexpected is happening as I write this book.

I’m not just remembering—I’m reclaiming.

I notice myself responding differently in real life after a deep writing session.

Calmer in my body.

Clearer in my voice.

More compassionate with my limits.

It’s as if each chapter loosens an old knot my system has been holding for decades.

Writing this way—slow, honest, embodied—has begun to rewire how I meet myself.

I’m less afraid of my own intensity.

Less ashamed of what I survived.

Less tempted to shrink for the comfort of others.

The story is no longer something that happened to me.

It’s something I’m actively integrating.

And with each chapter, I feel more present in my life now.

More available for joy.

More grounded in my relationships.

More trusting of my intuition.

The healing isn’t just on the page.

It’s showing up in how I live.

This book is becoming proof that telling the truth doesn’t destroy you.

It gives you back to yourself. 💛

🌟 Why I Know This Book Will Matter

I’m writing the book I needed when I was surviving quietly.

The one that would have named what my body knew before I had language for it.

The one that doesn’t rush healing or offer answers before safety.

This isn’t a story about breaking.

It’s a story about what happens after—

when someone chooses to stay, listen, and rebuild from the inside out.

If this book reaches you, my hope isn’t that you see yourself in my pain…

but that you recognize your own capacity for courage, healing, and truth.

Because this story didn’t make me fragile.

It made me free.

And I’m just getting started. 🔥

🚀 A Look Ahead

This book is still being written—but it’s already alive.

And when it’s ready to meet you,

it will be honest, embodied, and brave enough to tell the whole truth without asking you to be anyone else to receive it.

I can’t wait to share it with you.

✨ Truth Statement

My story is not finished. And neither is my becoming.

Coming soon —

a memoir about truth,

trauma,

and what happens when the body finally gets a voice,

Kami

Yours, Mine & Ours