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The Day I Stopped Pretending I Was Fine

There is a kind of tired that has nothing to do with sleep.

My elders called it being “bone weary.” And I always thought I understood what they meant.

I did not. Not really. Not until I came home from church one Sunday, walked through the door, and something in me just… gave way.

I took off my clothes, sat down on the edge of my bed, and cried.

Silently.

The kind of tears that have been waiting for a quiet moment when no one is watching.

And when they finally slowed, I told myself the truth.

I was not okay.

Not depressed — I want to name that distinction clearly because it matters. I know what depression feels like. Depression is not a stranger to me. I have navigated its particular kind of darkness before.

This was something different.

Something quieter. Something that had been settling into my bones for months, even as I kept showing up, producing, encouraging, and performing fine.

This was spiritual depletion.  I discuss this topic in this week’s episode of Deciding To Soar: Living Life Your Own Way. Click here to listen.)

Now, I want to pause here — because when I first put those two words together, something in me resisted.

My religious upbringing made me feel guilty even placing those words side by side. As if admitting that my spirit was depleted meant I had somehow failed God. As if I should have been able to pray through it, serve through it, praise through it,  worship through it, and work through it.

But here is what I now know: Naming “spiritual depletion” was not a crisis of faith. It was a courageous act of faith.

Why?

Because spiritual depletion is not the same as burnout.

Burnout is about doing too much….for too many… for too long….without any support, joy, or purpose.

Spiritual depletion is what happens when a woman has been giving from her deepest self — her spirit, her core, her truest identity — for so long, to too many, and in so many directions, that she loses access to herself.

Of course, she is still succeeding according to how society defines success.

She is still functioning.

She is still showing up.

She is still looking good and well-dressed.

She is still leading her team, achieving milestones, and effectively executing strategies.

Yes, she is still building her business, seeing patients, advising her clients, teaching her students, and raising her children.

 But something essential is gone. And she knows it, even though she cannot name it.

It looks like:

  • Going to church out of  obligation instead of spiritual renewal
  • Work becoming mechanical — parts of you present, other parts quietly withdrawn
  • Being physically present but emotionally distant
  • Code-switching, shifting from feeling like a survival strategy into something that feels like slow self-erasure
  • A bone-deep weariness that sleep does not touch
  • Relationships with people who need you but never feed you — emotionally, intellectually, or spiritually
  • A quiet desire to stop. Not to disappear. Just to finally, finally rest, even though you can’t clearly articulate what type of rest and respite you crave or need. 

That Sunday after church, I realized I had run out of places to hide.

Not from other people.

From myself.

And so I had to do the one thing I had been avoiding.

I had to come back to myself.

As uncomfortable as that was — and it was deeply uncomfortable — it was also sacred.

Because that moment marked the beginning of one of the most honest seasons of my life.

If you are reading this and something in you just exhaled…

If something whispered, that sounds like me…

If you have been calling it burnout, or stress, or just being tired — because spiritual depletion felt too big, too tender, too much to admit…

I want you to know: what you are feeling is real.

You are not weak.

You are not ungrateful.

You are not failing.

You are not less accomplished.

You are depleted. And there is a difference.

Here is where I would invite you to begin. Just three things. I call them the 3 N’s.

Name it. Tell yourself the truth without softening it. Without comparing it. Just name where you actually are — honestly, without apology.

Notice it. Look compassionately at where your energy is actually going. Not to fix it overnight. Just to see it clearly. Clarity creates space even before anything changes.

Nourish it. Each day, allow yourself to admit one true thing. Not positive. Not polished. Just real….For example, I am tired. I miss who I used to be. I am still here, and that is enough. Those small truths begin to reconnect you to yourself in ways that performance never could.

What I know for sure: You cannot outrun your own depletion. Eventually, the depletion will sit you down. The only question is whether you sit down on your own terms, or whether life does it for you.

For me, it was a little bit of both that eventually forced me to sit down on the edge of that bed.

And it was the most sacred thing that had happened to me in years.

 I want to leave you with this….

This week, please remember — you matter.

What you are feeling matters.

What you are carrying matters.

And the most holy action you can take right now is to take care of yourself.

Not tomorrow. Not after you finish everything on your list. Not after everyone else is okay.

Now.

So name it. Notice it. Nourish it.

It is time to SOAR.

This Week’s Blessing:

May you have the courage to tell yourself the truth — even when the truth is tender.

May you honor what your spirit has been trying to say.

May you Name what you are carrying, Notice where your energy is going, and Nourish yourself back to wholeness — one true thing at a time.

And may you trust that even here, in this honest and sacred space, you are still becoming.

Blessings,

SharRon 💛

I explore this more on this week’s episode of Deciding to Soar. Listen on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, and wherever you get your podcasts.

And join me for more conversations — subscribe to A True Word, my weekly letter. Join here.

I Know What I Carry: Why Owning Your Strengths Changes Everything

There is a shift happening.

It is not loud. It is not dramatic. But it is real.

I hear it in conversations. I see it in my clients. And if I am honest, I have felt it in my own life. It shows up as a quiet unease—a growing awareness that something is no longer working the way it once did in our jobs, our families, and even in our relationships.

More and more people are recognizing the same pattern:

  • They feel underappreciated and overused
  • They are carrying more responsibility than ever, yet feel less seen and less supported
  • They are contributing at high levels, yet only parts of them are being recognized or utilized
  • They are showing up, adjusting, and accommodating, yet something still feels incomplete or unfulfilled

When you constantly feel this way, it creates a tension—a subtle but persistent reminder that you are giving more than the environment or the relationships around you can fully receive or honor. And if we are honest, it begins to chip away at your spirit. It doesn’t feel good, and it was never meant to.

None of us were meant to beg to be seen, hustle to feel heard, or sell our souls to be successful.

So if you have been feeling this way, pause.

Acknowledge it.
Do not judge it.
Do not dismiss it.

Because that awareness is not weakness; it is information. It is a signal that something within you is ready for greater alignment, greater honesty, and greater ownership.

That is why I created this conversation around “I Know What I Carry.” Click here to listen. Because understanding your strengths is not just helpful—it is transformational. It gives you six powerful forms of awareness that remind you just how capable, how extraordinary, and how equipped you truly are.

Let’s walk through them.

Accuracy: Owning your strengths is not arrogance; it is truth.

Accuracy gives you clarity. It allows you to tell the truth about what you do well without minimizing it or waiting for external validation. When you are clear, your decisions become more grounded, more intentional, and more aligned.

Alignment: Your strengths deserve the right environment.

Alignment gives you direction. It helps you stop scattering your energy across spaces that can only partially receive you and instead place your gifts where they can be fully expressed. Alignment reduces exhaustion and increases impact.

Assurance: Your strength creates internal stability.

Assurance is deeper than confidence. It is not dependent on applause or recognition. It is an internal knowing that steadies you, allowing you to stand in your value even when others do not see it immediately.

Authority: You don’t have to wait to be chosen.

Authority shifts you from waiting to deciding. It reminds you that while others may control access to platforms or positions, they do not control your purpose. You have the right to move, build, and act from what you know you carry.

Agency: Your strengths give you options.

Agency expands your choices. It allows you to decide where your gifts go, how they are used, and what you will no longer tolerate. This is where freedom begins.

Anchoring: Your strengths steady you in uncertain times.

Life will shift. Roles will change. Expectations will evolve. But when you are grounded in your strengths, you are not easily moved. You have something internal to return to—something that stabilizes you no matter what is happening around you.

When you understand and own all of this, everything changes.

You begin to see that you are not stuck.
You are not limited.
You are not required to remain in spaces that diminish you.

You can make a change.
You can make a decision.
You can create something different.

You are not here to exist in fragments. You are here to live, lead, and serve in fullness. And when you remember and activate your strengths, you begin to move differently. You begin to see possibilities where you once saw limitations.

So let me remind you clearly:

You are equipped.
You have everything you need encoded in your DNA.
You lack nothing.
You have what it takes to make the changes in your life that keep you sane, safe, successful, and satisfied.

This Week’s Blessing:

May you stop negotiating what God already named.
May you stand in what you carry without apology.
May you trust your strength—not as arrogance, but as alignment.
May you move with assurance when the world is uncertain.
May you sit in authority without waiting to be chosen.
And may you build a life that reflects not just what you can do… but who you were called to be.

Because you don’t need more permission.

You need more clarity.

And clarity begins the moment you say—

I know what I carry.

I shared more about this in this week’s podcast episode, and I hope it meets you wherever you are. I invite you to listen to the episode here on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, and other platforms.

Also, be sure to join my newsletter for more conversations. Join here.

Blessings!

SharRon

Don’t Fall in Love with the “Water” and Forget to Care for the “Well”

My elders used to say, “Don’t fall so much in love with the ‘water’ that you forget to care for the ‘well’”.

For a long time, I understood that as a simple reminder to be grateful. To say thank you. To not take things for granted. But as I have grown—through my relationships, my responsibilities, and my own seasons of needing and being needed—I have come to understand that this wisdom is asking something much deeper of us.

It is not just asking us to receive with gratitude. It is asking us to live with awareness.

Because the “water” in our lives—the support, the encouragement, the insight, the presence we rely on—does not exist on its own. It comes from somewhere. More precisely, it comes from someone.

The “water” is what we receive. It is the friend who listens when we are overwhelmed, the person who shows up when we do not have the words, the one who offers guidance when we feel uncertain. It is the opportunity that finds us at the right time, the resource that meets a need, the financial support, the introduction, the advice that shifts our thinking. The “water” sustains us, and we all need it.

But the “well” is who made it possible.

The “well” is the person who chose to give. The one who made space, who offered time, who extended care, who poured from their own experience so that we might benefit. The “well” is not automatic. It is intentional. People decide—consciously or unconsciously—to be “wells” in our lives.

And yet, we live in a culture that teaches us to focus almost exclusively on the “water.”

For example, we celebrate outcomes. We highlight access. We reward visibility and results. We are taught how to ask, how to position ourselves, how to receive. But we are not always taught how to honor the person who made it possible. So we become skilled at accessing what we need, while remaining underdeveloped in acknowledging those who provide it.

Over time, this creates relationships that feel uneven. Not always visibly fractured, but quietly strained. Because when we consistently receive without recognizing the source, we begin to treat people as pathways rather than as partners. We value what flows to us more than who it flows from.

This matters now more than ever.

We are living in a time that is complex, demanding, and often overwhelming. Many of us are navigating uncertainty, carrying responsibilities, and leaning on one another in ways that are both visible and unseen. In moments like these, relationships are not optional—they are essential. And if we misunderstand the relationship between the “water” and the “well,” we risk damaging the very connections we depend on.

Part of that misunderstanding comes from our failure to recognize the cost of what people
give.

There is always a cost.

When someone listens, it costs them time.

When someone supports us emotionally, it costs them energy.

When someone offers wisdom, it often comes from something they have endured,
processed, and learned.

When someone shows up consistently, it costs them presence, attention, and sometimes
even parts of themselves they have not yet had the chance to restore.

If we only focus on what we receive and never consider what it required, we unintentionally diminish the value of the relationship.

And that is why we must learn how to care for the “well.”

Caring for the “well” begins with specificity. It is not enough to say, “I appreciate you.” While those words matter, they often lack the depth that true acknowledgment requires. Instead, we must name what was given and why it mattered.

Caring for the “well” also means remaining connected beyond moments of need. To reach out without an agenda. To say, “I was thinking about you today and wanted to check in.”

Reciprocity is essential. Even if it does not take the same form, we are still responsible for contributing to the relationship.

Finally, caring for the “well” requires us to learn how others “receive” appreciation and make our gratitude just as specific as our requests.

Reminder: And then, there are those of us who are the “well.”

The ones people call.
The ones people lean on.
The ones who show up—again and again.

Being the “well” is a gift. It is a calling. It is sacred work.

But it is not permission to be depleted.

If you are the “well,” you must also take responsibility for your sustainability.

As you move through your relationships, remember:

The “water” is what you receive.
The “well” is who made it possible.

And we need them both.

May you recognize the “wells” in your life and honor them with intention and truth.

I shared more about this in this week’s podcast episode, and I hope it meets you wherever you are. I invite you to listen to the episode here on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, and other platforms.

Blessings!
SharRon

Your Reputation Is More Important Than Revenge

Many years ago, my elders shared a piece of wisdom with me that I didn’t fully understand at the time.

They said simply, “Your reputation is more important than revenge.”

Like many lessons that come from elders, the words sounded wise but distant. They felt like something meant for someone else’s life—someone else’s circumstances. At the time, I had no idea that life would eventually place me in situations where those words would become not just meaningful, but necessary.

And that’s exactly what happened!

About 15 years ago, I experienced a betrayal that forced me to confront the depth of that wisdom. Someone I trusted deeply began spreading falsehoods about me. These were not small misunderstandings or careless remarks. The statements were damaging and deliberate, and they reached into areas of my life that mattered deeply—my work, my reputation, my family, and the trust I had built with others over many years.

The experience was painful in ways that are difficult to describe. It affected my business. It affected my health. It shook my confidence and forced me to question whether the truth about who I KNEW I was would be strong enough to withstand the vitriol of someone’s lies.

If you have ever had someone gossip about you, misrepresent your character, or distort the work you have done, then you understand how destabilizing that experience can be. In moments like that, the instinct to retaliate can be very strong. We want to correct the record. We want people to see the truth. Sometimes we even want the person who hurt us to feel the same pain they caused us.

Yet over time, I learned something that completely changed how I respond to betrayal, public attacks, and misrepresentation.

I learned that …. Protecting your reputation requires strategy, not reaction.

That realization eventually led me to develop what I call The Five A’s of Protecting Your Reputation. This framework has helped me move through many painful experiences with greater clarity, dignity, and intention. I share more about the subject on the Deciding To Soar Podcast: Living Life Your Own Way.  (Click to listen)

Below is the process I now use whenever I find myself facing situations where my reputation, work, or character may be at risk.

Step 1: Acknowledge the Wound

The first step is honesty.

When someone betrays you, spreads misinformation about you, or misrepresents your work, the pain can be very real. Many people try to skip over this step by pretending they are unaffected. They tell themselves they need to “be strong” or “move on.”

But healing cannot begin until we acknowledge what actually happened.

Suppressing pain does not make it disappear. Instead, it often resurfaces later, distorting our judgment and affecting our emotional well-being.

Acknowledging the wound might look like journaling about the situation, talking with a trusted friend, or simply admitting to yourself that what happened was painful, embarrassing, disruptive, or just low-down.

Naming the hurt is not weakness. It is clarity.

Reflection Question: Where might you be minimizing a wound that deserves to be acknowledged?

Step 2: Assess the Impact
Once you have acknowledged the emotional reality of the situation, the next step is to assess the impact.

What actually happened?

Did someone misrepresent your work? Did someone spread misinformation about you? Did someone attempt to damage your credibility or reputation? Did someone steal sensitive or divulge sensitive data?

It is important to examine the situation carefully before responding. Emotional pain can sometimes magnify our perception of events, but clarity helps us move from reaction to strategy.

Assessment also allows us to understand the difference between perceived harm and actual consequences.

This step helps ensure that our response is thoughtful rather than impulsive.

Reflection Question: Am I responding to the facts of the situation, or to the emotional shock of the moment?

Step 3: Arrange Your Response

This is the moment when wisdom begins to shape action.

Once you understand what has happened and how it may affect you, the next step is to arrange your response.

And here is something many people overlook: sometimes the most powerful response is silence.

Not every situation requires immediate confrontation. Sometimes, allowing time to pass reveals more truth than reacting quickly ever could.

At this stage, it is helpful to ask a critical question: Will my response escalate the conflict, or elevate my integrity?

Escalation often happens when we react from a place of anger or humiliation. However, elevation happens when we respond in ways that protect our dignity, affirm our values, and position us favorably for our future.

Arranging your response may involve seeking counsel from mentors, trusted advisors, or people who understand the broader context of the situation.

Remember, the goal is not simply to defend yourself in the moment. The goal is to protect your long-term reputation and minimize the impact on your career, family, and spirit.

Reflection Question: Am I choosing escalation or elevation?

Step 4: Activate the Plan

Once you have arranged a thoughtful response, the next step is activation.

Activation means implementing your plan with intention, courage, precision, and clarity.

For some people, activation may involve addressing misinformation directly and correcting the record. In other situations, activation may involve documenting the truth, strengthening professional boundaries, securing legal representation, or allowing your body of work to speak for itself.

Activation is NOT about proving someone wrong. It is about standing firmly in what you know to be true about yourself and the situation.

And, activation should also include an important element that many people overlook: healing. Why? When betrayal affects your emotional well-being, ignoring that pain can lead to decisions that compromise your peace or integrity.

My friend, healing may involve reflection, spiritual grounding, counseling, or reconnecting with supportive community.

Remember, spiritual and emotional healing is not separate from your strategy. It is part of the strategy.

Reflection Question: What action would allow me to stand in my integrity without sacrificing my peace?

Step 5: Continue Healing and Stay Open

The final step may be the most challenging.

When someone harms you, your natural instinct may be to protect yourself by becoming guarded or withdrawn because betrayal can make us suspicious of others and hesitant to trust again.

Yet closing ourselves off from possibility creates another form of loss.

So, even though it’s difficult, try to stay open. Just to be clear: Remaining open does not mean ignoring what happened. Instead, it means refusing to allow someone else’s behavior to define your future or dictate how you move in the world.

Also, staying open allows you to maintain your confidence, your creativity, and your willingness to engage with new opportunities and relationships. That’s key!

More importantly, staying open is a powerful way of reclaiming your identity and your voice.

Reflection Question: What would it look like for you to remain open while staying anchored in your truth?

 

Looking back now, I realize that the wisdom my elders shared all those years ago carried far more depth than I understood at the time. And, I am so glad I listened with my heart, and not just with my ears.

Remember…..

Revenge is fleeting. It may feel satisfying in the moment, but its effects rarely last and can ruin your life.

Reputation, however, is built slowly over time. It is formed through integrity, consistency, and character repeated across many seasons of life. And when your reputation is rooted in those qualities, it will speak for you in places where you may never be able to speak for yourself.

That is why the lesson still holds true today.

Yes, your reputation is more important than revenge.

Not because revenge is impossible, but because YOUR reputation—when built on integrity—has the power to stand the test of time.

Please listen to the podcast and subscribe to my YouTube channel while you are there. I would really appreciate your support. Click here.

Blessings,

SharRon

Witnessing Softness In Black Women

We rarely talk about softness when we talk about Black women.

We talk about her strength.

We talk about her leadership.

We talk about her resilience.

Yet softness may be one of the most sacred parts of her humanity. ( I explore this topic more in the Deciding To Soar podcast. You can listen on YouTube. It’s also available on Apple and other platforms.)

Let’s be clear….

Softness is not fragility. It is not weakness. It is not a lack of resolve.

Softness is a Black woman’s capacity for tenderness, empathy, levity, and joy without the burden of wearing armor.

And softness matters because no one is meant to survive on strength alone.

Yet culturally, there is an unspoken expectation that Black women should do exactly that — survive alone.

That is why Black women are praised for their strength, resilience, and unshakability.

But over time, those adjectives become a prison.

Inside that prison, her softness is overlooked because the world grows accustomed to her endurance.

Her tenderness is ignored because her competence is mistaken for invulnerability.

Her need for care is dismissed because she handles things “so well.”

And sometimes she is stretched, tested, and even attacked because her ability to withstand pressure is misinterpreted as invincibility.

But when her softness goes unwitnessed, there is a cost.

Exhaustion becomes normalized.

Boundaries are crossed.

Rest is reframed as indulgent.

Vulnerability is misread as deficiency.

Over time, she armors herself — not because she lacks softness, but because the environment does not feel safe enough to hold it.

Even though the world may call her protective response resilience, it isn’t.

It is survival, and survival is not the same as thriving.

Softness!

It is NOT a reward for endurance.

It is not care extended only after “performing” excellence.

It is not gentleness extended only after enduring hardship.

Softness is a right, a birthright.

It is where her nervous system settles. Where healing begins. Where wholeness is restored.

And softness is where growth happens because REAL growth can’t happen under constant pressure.

It happens in environments of safety, respect, & care.

My friend, softness is fertile ground.

It is where creativity returns.

Where imagination expands.

Where new versions of herself are allowed to emerge and bloom.

The blessing is, when Black women are allowed to be soft, they do not shrink; they expand.

And their expansion strengthens families. Stabilizes communities. Elevates organizations. Contributes to the world.

That’s why witnessing her softness is not sentimental.

It’s strategic.

It’s healing.

It’s liberating.

It’s an act of respect.

An act of honor.

A sign of leadership.

Strength may be what the world demands of her, but softness is what sustains her.

This Black History Month, may we “witness” Black women not only for what they produce or survive, but also for what they feel, hope for, and need.

And may we build workplaces where their strength is appreciated, and softness is protected.

Blessings!

P.S. – I share more in my newsletter. Subscribe here. 

Seven Lessons on Overflow, Contemplation, and Sacred Sisterhood

There are seasons in life when something in you whispers, begin.

Recently, I recorded my first interview on Deciding to Soar: Living Life Your Own Way. It was not perfect. It was unscripted. It was unedited. It was human. And I did it anyway.

Why?

Growth does not require perfection. It requires progression. And progression requires motion because we learn as we go and as we do.

And for that, I am deeply grateful that Dr. Vikki Johnson was willing to walk with me in that imperfect beginning. Thank you, Dr. Vikki. (You can learn more about Dr. Vikki Johnson at her website. Click here.)

 

In my soul-nourishing conversation with Dr. Vikki Johnson, we explored seven deeply layered themes that speak to women navigating midlife, career transitions, contemplation, and personal evolution.


1. Operate From Overflow, Not Capacity

Vikki shared a story her grandmother taught her about a coffee cup and saucer. Her grandmother would pour her coffee into a cup, and when it spilled into the saucer, she would drink from the saucer first. Her grandmother explained: What is in the cup is for you. What spills into the saucer is what you give away.

This illustration is more than charming nostalgia. It is an instruction.

We are often conditioned to give from our cup — to meet the needs of others before meeting our own. But nourishment is not selfish; it’s sacred. It is vital to our well-being, wholeness, and wellness.

When we give from a place of depletion, resentment grows. When we give from overflow, generosity feels natural.


2. Contemplation Creates Liberation

Contemplation is not laziness. It is courage.

It is sitting still long enough to ask:

  • Who told me that?
  • Is this belief mine?
  • Is this aligned with who I am now?
  • Is that perspective edifying?

Inquiry is the birthplace of freedom. We cannot liberate ourselves from inherited narratives, stereotypes, and cultural conditioning unless we first question them.

We must think deeply to move freely.


3. Evolution Requires Release

Growth and grief walk hand in hand because evolution requires release.

We may grieve:

  • Old identities
  • Familiar environments
  • Roles we once held
  • Rules we used to follow
  • Relationships we have
  • Versions of ourselves that once felt safe

Grief does not mean we are wrong. It often means we are expanding.


4. Peace Is Practiced

Peace is not accidental. It is intentional.

It requires boundaries. It requires restraint. It requires choosing not to respond, not to overextend, not to internalize what is not ours.

Peace must be protected by YOU!


5. Values Govern Our Lives

Dr. Vikki spoke about the importance of identifying core values.

When we know what truly matters to us, our values govern our decisions. They shape our yes and our no. They help us set boundaries. They reduce our susceptibility to seeking validation from others.

When you are aligned with your values, you move differently. You do not chase approval or acceptance. You walk in integrity, even if it means walking alone.


6. Covenant Relationships Sustain Growth

Not all relationships are covenantal.

Covenant relationships are rooted in integrity, safety, and witnessing. They allow space for imperfection, evolution, and truth.

We need people who can mirror our growth without envy and hold our complexity without judgment.

Sacred sisterhood is sustaining.


7. Begin Before You Feel Ready

This episode itself is evidence: perfection is not the prerequisite for purpose.

Progression requires motion. And motion teaches what preparation alone cannot.

If you are in midlife, reimagining your career, or quietly becoming someone new, begin.

You will refine and pivot along the way.

 

If this message resonates with you, please share it with someone who may need it. Growth multiplies when wisdom is passed forward.

Also, I invite you to subscribe to my YouTube channel. Your subscription helps me continue building a platform rooted in authenticity, sisterhood, and purpose, which allows me to create more meaningful conversations and programming for people navigating transition and transformation.

And if you are not yet subscribed to my newsletter, I encourage you to join. It’s where I share deeper reflections, resources, and insights that may support you in your becoming.

Let’s stay connected. Let’s continue to dare to soar higher — together.

Blessings!

SharRon

Do You See Us? The Healing Power of Witnessing Black Women

Last week, I began a series on the power of witnessing.

Based on the feedback I received, it resonated deeply. Many of you shared that it named something you’ve been feeling—at work, in leadership, and during seasons of transition and uncertainty—something you hadn’t quite had language for.

So today, I want to continue that conversation, with the hope of supporting all of us in our efforts to build more loving, affirming, and supportive communities.

And before I go any further, I want to again define witnessing for anyone who may be joining us for the first time.

Witnessing is not simply noticing someone’s presence.

To witness is to:

  • see truth clearly
  • and testify to it out loud

When you witness someone, you are saying:

I see what you can do, and I value who you are.
I recognize your humanity, even if the world does not.
I honor your contribution, even if it goes unrewarded.
I remember you, even when history or leadership tries to forget you.

Remeber, witnessing isn’t about applause. It’s not a symbolic celebration or surface-level praise.

Witnessing is about seeing people and their realities clearly—and responding with care.

As we enter Black History Month—a time to honor the lives, legacies, and contributions of Black people—I want to pause and speak with intention, especially to Black women, as we continue the conversation I began last week.

Although many of us are navigating job loss and career uncertainty, research consistently confirms that Black women are experiencing higher rates of job loss, greater financial instability, and more frequent career transitions than any other demographic group.

Unfortunately, I have seen this play out in boardrooms, ministries, and community spaces alike, where Black women continue to execute strategies, solve problems, and steady institutions even as their own job security and financial stability are threatened.

In moments like this, witnessing is not optional. It is vital to nourish the soul and support a person’s dignity.

And as we all endeavor to witness each other in confidence-building and dignity-affirming ways, I want to share five specific ways we can witness Black women—ways that protect humanity, interrupt erasure, and support healing.


1. Witness Their Strengths (Talent, Skills, and Expertise)

When we talk about witnessing the strength of Black women, we are not only talking about emotional endurance. We are also talking about talent, expertise, insight, wisdom,  creativity, and skill.

Witnessing here means naming what Black women do well—how they think, lead, solve problems, create, and elevate both the work and the people around them.

Why this matters:
When talent and expertise are shared without care, acknowledgment, or appreciation, it can feel like exploitation. Over time, that exploitation can feel like extraction and usury.

Also, being constantly relied upon for what we do well—without being rewarded—undermines confidence, squashes potential, and discourages continued contribution. It breeds resentment, leads to exhaustion, and discourages participation.

What witnessing strengths can sound like:

“I see how talented you are in this situation.”
“You are an effective writer and leader, and your creativity elevates this work.”
“Your expertise is shaping the outcome in meaningful ways, and I want to name that.”


2. Witness Their Success

Black women continue to achieve success (based on their own definitions and own terms)  despite systemic barriers, unequal access, and constant scrutiny. Yet that success is often minimized, delayed, denied, erased, or credited elsewhere.

Witnessing success means naming achievement clearly, without qualification or minimization. It means acknowledging that Black women have achieved, overcome obstacles, and made sacrifices to accomplish their goals.

It is also a recognition that their success often came at a high emotional, physical, and spiritual cost.

Why this matters:
Over time, failure to witness success teaches society to discount, disrespect, and deny the contributions, inventions, and impact of Black women. It also teaches Black women to shrink instead of shine and to minimize the ways they transform the world.

What witnessing success can sound like:

“Your success is not accidental. It reflects your leadership, skill, and persistence.”
“You are a difference maker, a game changer, and a trailblazer. What you have accomplished on your own terms serves as a model for women coming behind you.”
“I appreciate you and I am deeply inspired by the sacrifices you made and the business you created to support young people.”


3. Witness Their Struggle

Black women are frequently expected to perform without pause, to handle crisis without acknowledgment, and to absorb emotional, spiritual, and relational strain without relief.

What is often unnamed is this: the ability to navigate chaos, complexity, and crisis comes at a cost.

Managing complexity, navigating chaos, and juggling mutiple responsibilities takes an emotional, spiritual, and physical toll on the body, mind, and soul. And these tolls frequently go unnoticed and unnamed until they manifest as exhaustion, illness, or disengagement.

Why this matters:
Unwitnessed struggle leads to burnout—not because of a lack of resilience, but because of prolonged invisibility, lack of support, lack of protection, and unmet care.

What witnessing can sound like:

“I see how much this has required of you.”
“What you’re carrying has weight.”
“Even though it looks easy,  I know that it is hard and feels heavy.”


4. Witness Their Sadness

Sadness is often overlooked because strength is expected. That expectation is reinforced by historical narratives that normalize Black pain and mythicize Black endurance. Both do Black women a profound disservice.

There is also shame attached to sadness, grief, and depression. In some cultures, vulnerability and transparency are even misread or misunderstood as weakness, which further increases feelings of shame and isolation.

Why this matters:
Sadness that goes unseen turns into sickness. And sickness eventually erodes well-being, wellness, and wholeness.

What witnessing can sound like:

“You don’t have to be strong right now.”
“Your feelings are real, and they matter.”
“The situation is heavy and draining.  You are not flawed for feeling it.”


5. Witness Their Shifts

Witnessing shifts means affirming that change is allowed and welcomed.

It means understanding that growth should be supported—not punished or penalized.

The truth is: emotional/spiritual healing, establishing boundaries, and making new choices will disrupt family dynamics, alter relationships, and change access to people who demand older versions of ourselves. In fact, making self-enriching and self-affirming decisions can feel threatening to people who benefited from us deprioritizing our needs, de-centering our wants, and denying our true identities.

Why this matters:
Shifts without affirmation can feel destabilizing rather than liberating. People need to know they are permitted, encouraged, and celebrated as they evolve.  Our transformation should be honored. Our growth should never cost us respect, belonging, or safety.

What witnessing can sound like:

“I see how you are changing, and I honor the courage it takes to choose yourself.”
“I see how you are growing—and your growth inspires me to grow too.”
“I see how you move differently now, and by watching you, I’m learning how to honor myself more.”


This week, I released a podcast episode titled: “Do You See Us? The Healing Power of Witnessing Black Women.”

In it, I explore these five ways of witnessing more deeply—why they matter, how they heal, and how they protect dignity and interrupt erasure. You can listen on Apple, YouTube, or your platform of choice.

I invite you to listen. I invite you to reflect.  Most of all, I invite you—especially during Black History Month—to seek out opportunities to witness Black women and to allow yourself to be witnessed by people who truly value you.

Remember, Black women do not need to be fixed. They need to be WITNESSED! They need to be protected, appreciated, and affirmed.

This week, ask yourself:

  • Who is a Black woman in my life whose humanity I MUST witness more fully—starting today?
  • What might I, as a Black woman—or as a loving human—do to witness myself more fully?
  • How can I witness the unique realities of others in more life-enriching, soul-nourishing ways?

*If this message resonates and you find yourself longing to be seen, affirmed, and held in a thoughtful space, I want to extend a personal invitation.

In March, I’ll be offering a small-group witnessing experience—a guided, intimate space designed for reflection, truth-telling, and soul-centered support.

  • The group will include up to five women.

  • I also have two openings for one-on-one work for those who desire more personalized support.

If you’re interested in joining the group or learning more about working with me individually, please email me directly for details. I would be honored to walk with you during this season.

Sending you blessings as I witness you,
SharRon

You Don’t Need To Do More Work. You Need To Be Witnessed.

One of the most important lessons my elders taught me in my early twenties was this:

You don’t need to do more work. You need to be witnessed.

They were not discouraging excellence or effort.

They were challenging a dangerous assumption that performance and labor alone guarantee elevation.

They understood something many of us eventually learn the hard way: that some people will be expected to carry more, prove longer, and work harder—even when they are already doing excellent work. They knew that exemplary performance alone does not always lead to protection, recognition, or advancement.

That’s why they said, you need a witness.

The word ‘witnessing’ is one we often hear in religious and spiritual spaces. At its core, it means to see truth and to testify to it. Which means that a witness is not a casual spectator or a passive observer. It is someone who names what they see and allows that truth to shape trust, inspire growth, and expand potential.

This is why witnessing matters just as much in workplaces and organizations as it does in spiritual settings.

And to be clear: witnessing is more than feedback. Feedback evaluates performance. Witnessing affirms personhood.

Witnessing says, I see you. I see what you bring. I see who you are becoming—and I’m willing to name it.

If you pause and think about your own career, you likely remember moments when you felt witnessed.

  • Moments when you were invited to the table and trusted to speak.
  • When your growth was not only celebrated but compensated.
  • When people appreciated your work and your wisdom.
  • When you felt visible and valued.

Feeling seen and appreciated had a real impact on your life. It nourished your soul. It built your confidence. It freed you to contribute at the highest level—not out of fear or over-functioning, but out of trust and belonging.

And most of us also remember the times when we were not witnessed.

  • The seasons when we were told that we were reliable, but never considered ready.
  • When we were asked to carry the load, but not given the opportunity to lead.
  • When we were expected to produce, but never promoted.
  • When you had to deliver big results with few resources.
  • When our work was used, but we were never credited.

Those experiences didn’t just stall our careers. They left hurtful marks on our spirits. And over time, feeling unseen or undervalued depleted our energy, eroded our trust, and lowered our level of engagement—not because we lacked resilience, but because we felt extracted from rather than affirmed and invested in.

What I know for sure is this: witnessing matters especially now.

Why?

Many of us are navigating seasons of transition, uncertainty, and reinvention. And while witnessing may not directly address the emotions that come with change, it does something just as important: it reminds you who you are.

It reaffirms strengths that may have been overshadowed by loss, disruption, or disappointment.

 It stabilizes your identity when everything around you feels unstable.

And, it anchors you in truth while you discern your next step.

That’s why witnessing is not a luxury or a soft leadership concept. It is a difference maker. It is a leadership imperative. It is an indicator of high emotional intelligence.

After decades of coaching high-performing, high-values, and high-impact people, what I know for sure is this: when people feel honored—not just evaluated—they expand their capacity to perform. And just as importantly, they expand their capacity to honor themselves and others.

When that happens, trust deepens. Cultures shift. Problems are solved. Solutions are created. And leadership becomes more humane, more sustainable, and more whole.

As you sit with this reflection, consider these questions.

  • Where in your work have you felt most seen—and why?
  • Where have you felt productive, but invisible?
  • How do you typically respond when you are not witnessed?
  • And when you are witnessed, do you name how empowering that experience is?

You might also consider where witnessing could change something beyond work. Where in your personal life could being seen—or offering that seeing to someone else—restore trust or connection? What parts of you long to be named, acknowledged, or developed more fully?

And if you are spiritually inclined, you might gently ask: In what ways do I experience—or long to experience—being witnessed by my Creator? What helps me recognize that kind of seeing and validation?

If this reflection resonates, I invite you to listen to this week’s Deciding To Soar: Living Life Your Own Way podcast episode, where I explore the five dimensions of witnessing—what they look like, why they matter, and how they shape confidence, leadership, and trust. You can listen on YouTube, Apple, or other platforms.

Over the coming weeks, I’ll continue exploring witnessing across different areas of life—because in seasons of uncertainty, disruption, and global change, witnessing matters now more than ever.

If you have questions about witnessing—at work, in leadership, in relationships, or in your own healing—I welcome them. I’ll weave those questions into future writing, conversations, and workshops.

My Blessing For You: May you be seen for who you are, not just for what you produce.
May your work be witnessed, your gifts named, and your humanity honored.
And may you have the courage to witness others with the same care.

I SEE YOU!

SharRon

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What My Elders Taught Me About Work and Worth: How A Fork Almost Cost Me My Future

Over 40 years ago, early in my career, I found myself sitting at a formal dinner table in a professional setting that felt far beyond anything I had ever experienced.

The table was set with more forks, spoons, and glasses than I knew how to navigate. The setting was so unfamiliar that I questioned whether I was worthy of having a seat at the table. The truth is, the extravagant place setting made me feel out of my league, and I feared that one small mistake would confirm others’ belief that I did not belong at that table, in the company, or in the industry.

And my fears had nothing to do with my performance. I knew I had the experience, education, wisdom, and expertise to succeed. What unsettled me were the unspoken rules of the room—the customs no one explains—and the fear of making a common mistake or a CLIM, a career-limiting move.

Because when you are the “first or the only”, making any mistake feels scary. Knowing that your missteps will not only influence your own opportunities but also unfairly impact the perceptions and future possibilities of others who look like you makes even ordinary moments feel heavy and risky.

Because my confidence was waning, I knew I needed help. I didn’t need correction or criticism; I needed care.

That care came from elders in my church—people who never had the opportunity to sit at corporate tables themselves, yet possessed the knowledge I deeply needed.

Without my knowing, they set up an entire formal table setting in the back of the church and patiently walked me through the different utensils. They taught me what to use, when to use it, and how to move through meals with confidence. Their love and concern not only prepared me; it strengthened my confidence and reminded me that I was capable of navigating unfamiliar settings with grace.

That one small act—helping me feel comfortable at the table—became a life-changing moment in my career and encouraged me to enter new rooms and accept new challenges. Most of all, it convinced me that I belonged.

As I reflect on my career journey, I’m reminded that it was often my elders who quietly equipped me for the rooms I was called to enter. Unfortunately, after we earn degrees or gain some social status, we too often overlook those who have helped us the most because we assume they have little to offer.

As you reflect on your career –

1) Who helped you feel ready when you were not sure you belonged?

2) Who provided the wisdom you needed so that work wouldn’t undermine your feelings of worth?

3) Who might be waiting for you to show up for them in a life-changing way?

Our elders teach us so much about success, and I am so grateful that those lessons continue to ground us today.

My prayer for you: May you recognize the love that shaped you, honor those who prepared you, share the lessons they gave you, and extend that same care to those you meet along the way.

Blessings!

SharRon

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Trust Your Wings, Not The Branch

Trust your wings, not the branch.

My spiritual mothers taught me that proverb when I was young. At the time, it felt wise. Now, it feels necessary. Because in 2026, many people are confronting a truth we’ve long avoided: the branches we relied on are not as steady as we once believed.

When my spiritual mothers talked about branches, they meant the external structures we’ve been taught to trust—jobs, titles, salaries, positions, policies, corporate systems, status, even the professional connections we’ve built over time. These were the things  – the branches – we were encouraged to lean on and hold tightly, because throughout our lives we were conditioned to believe they would provide stability, security, protection, identity, and meaning. And because those beliefs run deep, most of us don’t question them until the ground beneath us begins to shift and shake.

And for many, that shift and shaking is already underway.

As a minister, I witness the toll of these unexpected shifts; I see the spiritual fatigue up close. On Sundays, I see professionals at the altar who are mentally, emotionally, and spiritually depleted. Their exhaustion isn’t just from completing tasks, but from trying to survive environments that demand constant proving of their worth, managing competing expectations, and sometimes compromising their values just to stay afloat. I witness the toll on their souls, even as they try to hide the sorrow in their eyes and minimize the strain in their bodies. I also sense the tension of feeling grateful to have a job while being overwhelmed by the weight of doing it. It is a heavy, complicated emotional terrain to navigate.

In those vulnerable moments, I am reminded of something my spiritual mothers understood long ago: the branches we were conditioned to trust were never meant to hold us, keep us safe, or sustain us. What actually carries us are our wings.

Our wings are internal. They are the strengths, gifts, abilities, and talents we were born with and the capacities we’ve cultivated along the way. They live in our histories, our personal stories, and the legacies we carry. They show up as resilience, intuition, ancestral wisdom, creativity, curiosity, emotional intelligence, discernment, adaptability, courage, and faith. They act as an inner compass that helps us shed shame when we make mistakes, remember that disruption is not denial, walk through fear while still holding on to faith, and maintain our dignity even when we are attacked. These wings are already within us, often unnamed and uncelebrated, yet they are the very qualities that keep us moving, becoming, building, and blooming—especially when external branches break.

So as this year comes to a close, I invite you to pause and take inventory of your wings. Identify them. Name what you carry and what has carried you, trusting that what sustained you yesterday will guide you now and support you tomorrow.

Remember—you are not your job. You are not your title, your environment, or your position in an organizational chart. You are not confined by systems, structures, stereotypes, policies, or other people’s perceptions. These are branches, and they will eventually bend and break.

You have WINGS. You are lifted, guided, and fortified by them. Your wings are steady, sacred, swift, and strong. And no matter what shifts around you or shakes beneath you, they can carry you toward new opportunities, soul-nourishing places, and dignity-affirming communities.

Here are 10 ways to TRUST YOUR WINGS:

  • Take inventory of your gifts, skills, and strengths—both innate and developed.

  • Name what has carried you through past transitions instead of dismissing it as “just survival.”

  • Pay attention to your intuition—it’s information, not imagination.

  • Separate your worth from your role; your value existed before the title.

  • Notice patterns of resilience—where you adapted, rebuilt, or rose again.

  • Trust the lessons learned in difficult environments; they refined your wings.

  • Stop waiting for external validation to believe what you already know about yourself.

  • Honor your discernment—the ability to read the room and protect your spirit is a strength.

  • Release the need to prove your worth constantly; your wings don’t require permission to fly.

  • Choose alignment over attachment—to people, positions, or systems that no longer fit.


A Closing Benediction

May you trust the wisdom within you more than the structures around you.
May you remember that your value is never dependent on a title, a system, or someone else’s approval.
May you reclaim the strength, creativity, and discernment that carried you yesterday, trusting they will guide you tomorrow.
May you rise with courage when the ground beneath you feels uncertain and risky.
May you fly toward people, places, and possibilities that honor who you are and who you are becoming.
And may you always remember that you were created with wings.

Blessings!

SharRon