Lately, the rain has been my soundtrack.

No television. No phone buzzing. Just me, the steady rhythm of raindrops, and my thoughts. My kids are gone. The house is quiet. For the first time in a long time, I’ve been able to hear myself think.

And somewhere between the thunder and the silence, I realized something… People love to gather around when you’re broken. They rush to hold you up when you’re down, pray for you, feed you, check on you. But the moment you start to rise; when your spirit begins to glow again, when your smile isn’t forced, and your peace feels real; some of those same people start to shift. Their energy changes. Because not everyone knows how to love you when you’re healing or no longer in the constant state of helplessness.

So, I did something radical: I pulled away.

From everyone.

It didn’t matter if I’d known them ten years or ten months. I needed to see what life looked like without all the noise. And what I found in that silence was peace. Over the Thanksgiving break, I ran a quiet experiment. I stopped answering calls. Ignored texts. Let FaceTimes ring. No Messenger. No “Hey, stranger.” Just me and God. My stress melted away like ice under the morning sun. Without all the voices telling me who to be, how to pray, or what to do, I could finally hear my own again. I even stepped back from church; not because I lost faith, but because I found it again in its purest form. Church had started to feel more like an organization than a sanctuary. Politics from the pulpit, gossip in the pews… topics that divided instead of delivered. And as a combat veteran living with PTSD and anxiety, I refuse to sit in a space that feels unsafe. I go to worship, not to wonder who’s for me and who’s against me.

And when I backed away, I found something holy:

Peace in my morning coffee.

Peace in scripture at 5 a.m.

Peace in dropping my kids off at school and driving home in silence with the sunrise.

Peace in me.

Even in dating, I’ve surrendered my will to God’s whisper. If my spirit feels uneasy, if I sense deception or distance, I don’t chase. I don’t force. I don’t beg. I remove myself. Because when God speaks… through a dream, a gut feeling, or a quiet “no”; I listen.

And to those who think they know my life; who whisper about who I talk to, where I go, whether I’m speaking to my ex or not… understand this: my life is not a group project. If I want to share, I will. Otherwise, mind your peace the way I mind mine.

I’ve realized that discernment is a gift, and mine is sharp. I see straight through projection, jealousy, and false concern. It’s not arrogance; it’s awareness. And awareness has taught me one thing: not everyone clapping for you wants to see you win.

So I’ve created my own bubble.

It’s quiet here. It’s sacred. It’s home.

I’m nearing the end of my new book; Unveiled: The Secrets That Saved Me, releasing in March 2026, and it’s my most transparent work yet. It’s not about my exes, my marriages, or anyone else’s story but my own. It’s about how I became me. Every wound, every scar, every rebirth. This book closes the door on my past for good, and once it’s out, I’m done explaining my journey. After this, I’m returning to what I was always called to do: advocating for women, for mental health, for healing. No gossip. No negativity. Just growth, grace, and God.

2026 is my “Let Them” year.

As Mel Robbins says—let them.

Let them misunderstand you.

Let them gossip.

Let them fall away.

Because while they’re busy trying to figure out your life, you’ll be busy living it.

Only I can live and die for me.

Only I can stand before God for me.

And only I can decide what peace looks like in my world; and this, right here, is it. So if you notice me posting less, or being quieter, know that I’m still here, just evolving. My peace is louder than any post. My joy doesn’t need to be announced.

Thank you for walking this journey with me.

To those who truly support me; check out my catalog on Amazon, stay tuned for my upcoming book, and follow my blog. My YouTube channel will be launching in 2026, filled with the same purpose that started it all: empowering women to heal, rise, and reclaim their light.

Because healing isn’t a performance. It’s a process.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m exactly where I need to be. -Michelle

Verse I am meditating on today:

Isaiah 30:15 

“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength.”