Not cold. Not bitter.

Just… done trying to explain herself to people who were committed to misunderstanding her.

That’s lioness energy.

She doesn’t chase validation.

She doesn’t scroll for comparison.

And she definitely doesn’t count what’s left in her glass — rosé or otherwise.

Because she knows peace isn’t something you earn.

It’s something you protect.

There comes a point in healing where you realize you don’t have to keep proving that you’re okay — you just are.

You start enjoying the life you’ve built, even if it’s quieter now.

Even if fewer people get a seat at your table.

That’s the beauty of becoming the lioness — she doesn’t roar to be heard.

She rests, she watches, and she moves when it’s time.

If you’re in a season where you’re learning to stay calm instead of reacting — that’s not weakness.

That’s growth.

That’s authority.

That’s God showing you what real strength looks like.

So no, the lioness doesn’t concern herself with how much rosé she has, or what the world thinks she’s missing.

She’s already full.

Because her peace is her proof.

Reflection Question:

What’s something you’ve stopped concerning yourself with lately?

Share it in the comments — this space is where quiet strength gathers. 🩷

Subscribe

Share

Comment

I almost didn’t post the first episode.

I told myself it wasn’t the right time — that maybe I needed to heal more first.

But obedience doesn’t wait for perfection.

And now, what started as a single step of faith has reached listeners across the world.

When I started Set Apart + Called, it wasn’t about numbers.

It wasn’t even about being heard.

It was about obedience.

God had been pressing this assignment on my heart for months — to speak truth about narcissistic abuse, spiritual warfare, and deliverance through the lens of faith. And honestly, I didn’t feel ready. I didn’t feel qualified. I just felt called.

Fast forward to now — 10 episodes later.

🎧 89 total plays.

🙌 11 followers.

🌍 Listeners in the United States, Italy, Russia, and now… Saudi Arabia.

What started as a personal act of healing has become something so much bigger — a ministry of truth and restoration.

Every episode, every comment, every message reminds me that this isn’t just a podcast.

It’s proof that obedience multiplies.

I don’t have a marketing team or a massive platform.

Just a mic, a message, and the conviction that God can use anything — even your pain — to reach someone who’s quietly praying for confirmation.

So if you’ve been listening, sharing, or standing in truth with me… thank you.

We’re only just getting started.

🕊️

Set Apart + Called Podcast

New episodes every Tuesday & Thursday

Now streaming on Spotify + Apple Podcasts

Subscribe

Share

Comment

Message me

I ask myself this question more than I care to admit. And I know I’m not the only one.

Because some of you reading this right now are asking it too.

You’re trying to co-parent with someone who treats your boundaries like a game.

You’re trying to heal while being baited, manipulated, and ignored.

You’re watching your kids become pawns in conversations you were never even invited to.

And it makes you feel like you’re the crazy one.

But here’s what I’ve come to understand:

It was never about happiness.

It was never about love.

It was always about control.

The second you stepped out of the system they built, you exposed the fact that it was all a lie.

Lately, I’ve been hit with things no one sees:

• Phone settings changed behind my back

• Location-sharing requests while my kids are in my home

• Manipulation disguised as “helpful” co-parenting

• And my children, the ones I fight so hard to protect is caught in the middle

All of it orchestrated to do one thing: Provoke me.

Push me into overreacting.

So they can say “See? Look at her. She’s the problem.”

But here’s what God whispered to me under this sky tonight:

“You’re not being punished. You’re being provoked. Because you’re not just surviving narcissistic abuse — You’re exposing it.

And that makes you a threat to darkness.”

This is spiritual warfare in real time.

Not just over your household — but over your voice.

Your sanity.

Your motherhood.

Your calling.

And that’s why it feels so violent sometimes.

So if you’re in the fire right now, I need you to hear this:

• You’re not crazy.

• You’re not bitter.

• You’re not the problem.

You’re just not controllable anymore.

And that scares them more than anything.

You may be exhausted.

You may be questioning everything.

But the fact that you’re still standing is proof that God is still covering you.

Keep going.

Keep exposing.

Keep telling the truth.

Even if your voice shakes.

Even if the attacks get louder.

You were never meant to fit in.

You were set apart.

✝️

“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” — Exodus 14:14

Subscribe

Share

Comment

Message me

but from what didn’t.

The father who wasn’t there.

The mother who explained everyone else’s pain but never knew what to do with yours.

The silence that echoed louder than words.

Those moments shape more than we realize.

They don’t just leave us missing love—they change the way we recognize it.

And if that emptiness isn’t healed, it becomes the open door the wrong people walk through.

The ones who mimic what’s familiar, not what’s healthy.

The ones who make you chase, prove, and perform for affection that should’ve been freely given.

But God—He doesn’t waste pain.

He exposes it, redeems it, and rewrites it in His timing.

Maybe that’s why He’s revealing this to so many of us now.

Because exposure isn’t cruelty—it’s mercy.

He’s showing us that the absence was never our fault,

and it never meant we were unworthy.

You’re not just healing—you’re rewriting generations.

You’re becoming the safety you never had.

And that ache you still feel sometimes?

That’s not weakness.

That’s transformation.

🎧 Episode 8 of Set Apart + Called is live now:

“The Father Wound — When Absence Opens the Door to the Narcissist.”

Listen on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

Subscribe

Share

Comment

Message me

When obedience stirs opposition, it’s confirmation—not failure.

The closer you get to truth, the louder the enemy gets.

That’s what no one tells you about deliverance—

freedom doesn’t silence hell. It provokes it.

Ever since I started speaking openly about narcissistic abuse and spiritual warfare, the attacks have intensified.

Not just emotionally, but circumstantially.

The exhaustion. The tension in the air.

The random chaos that seems to come out of nowhere.

It’s not coincidence.

It’s retaliation.

Because when you expose darkness, you threaten its livelihood.

When you tell the truth, you take away the enemy’s favorite weapon—silence.

The Pattern of Pushback

Every time I release an episode or post something that brings clarity, something happens.

A conflict flares up out of nowhere.

Technology glitches.

The kids act out.

The exhaustion hits hard.

And I used to think, What am I doing wrong?

But God has been teaching me—

the warfare isn’t punishment, it’s proof.

It’s confirmation that what I’m doing carries weight in the spirit.

Because the enemy doesn’t waste energy on the powerless.

He targets those walking in authority.

Truth Disturbs the System

When you start naming deception, everything that depended on your silence begins to shake.

The narcissist’s control.

The false peace.

The generational patterns that thrived in secrecy.

That’s why the backlash feels so personal—it is.

The enemy works through proximity.

He’ll use whoever still has emotional access to you.

He’ll hit where it hurts most: your children, your finances, your peace of mind.

But that’s not defeat.

That’s exposure.

You’re watching spiritual systems lose their grip.

The Assignment Has a Cost

I won’t pretend it’s easy.

Sometimes it feels like you’re walking through fire barefoot, wondering if obedience is worth it.

But the truth is, you’re not being attacked because you’re failing.

You’re being attacked because you’re effective.

If you’ve felt the heat turn up since stepping into your calling, take heart: it’s because hell noticed.

Heaven already knew your name.

Now the enemy does too.

The Reminder

Keep standing in truth.

Keep exposing the lies.

Because clarity is deliverance.

Every time you tell your story, you set captives free—including parts of yourself that used to stay silent.

You are not losing your mind.

You’re breaking patterns.

You’re tearing down altars that were never meant to stand.

The warfare is real—but so is your authority.

✨ Listen: New episode of Set Apart + Called — “DARVO: The Narcissist’s Defense.”

🎧 Now streaming on Spotify + Apple Podcasts.

💬 Follow on TikTok and Instagram for daily truth + encouragement.

Subscribe

Share

Comment

Message me

It reminded me that freedom isn’t always loud or celebrated.

Sometimes, it’s a quiet act of war.

And God sees it all.

The Strength No One Sees

People talk about leaving like it’s a single decision: a clean break, a dramatic exit, a suitcase in hand.

But the truth?

Leaving a narcissist isn’t one moment.

It’s a thousand small deaths.

It’s dying to the fantasy you prayed was real.

It’s grieving the version of him you created to survive.

It’s realizing that no one will ever truly understand what it took for you to finally say enough.

You don’t leave because you stopped loving.

You leave because you stopped dying.

And the hardest part isn’t walking out the door —

it’s surviving the silence that follows.

The disbelief.

The sideways looks.

The questions that sting:

“Are you sure?” “He didn’t seem that bad.”

You start to realize how invisible your pain was —

how easy it was for others to believe his act and doubt your truth.

But here’s what I’ve learned:

God doesn’t need the world to believe you.

He already saw everything.

He was there for every tear you swallowed,

every night you rehearsed your exit in your head,

every prayer that began with, “Lord, give me strength.”

And when you finally walked away — trembling, unsure, but obedient — Heaven called it victory.

Not rebellion.

Not failure.

Victory.

If no one clapped for you when you left, hear this now:

Heaven did.

And that applause still echoes every time you choose peace over chaos,

truth over illusion,

and freedom over fear.

💭 Reflection

To the woman still planning her exit:

You are not weak for staying this long, you are gathering the strength Heaven is building in you.

And when the door finally closes behind you,

you’ll know it wasn’t fear that walked out

it was faith.

🎧 Listen to this week’s episode: The Narcissist’s Playbook

Subscribe

Share

Comment

Message me

But this one feels different.

For years, birthdays came and went with a quiet ache in my chest. I smiled, blew out the candles, and carried the weight of things I wasn’t allowed to say. I lived in silence — afraid of what would happen if I spoke the truth out loud.

This year is different.
Because this year, I’m speaking.

Starting this podcast and writing here has been more than “content.” It’s been freedom. It’s been hope. It’s been a way of taking my voice back — the same voice that was used against me, silenced, twisted, and made small.

And to stand here today, on my birthday, saying these words without fear? That’s the best gift I could ever ask for.

I share this not just as a milestone for me, but as a marker for you. If you’ve ever been silenced… if you’ve ever second-guessed your own reality just to keep the peace… if you’ve ever celebrated your birthday with a smile on your face and pain in your chest… I want you to know: you won’t stay there forever.

Freedom comes. Healing comes. And one day, you’ll find yourself standing in the light, too — looking back at the girl you once were and realizing she made it.

So today I don’t just celebrate another year of life. I celebrate the fact that I’m finally living it.

Thank you for being here with me on this journey. Your presence is part of my healing, and I don’t take it for granted.

Here’s to another year — not of silence, but of truth. Not of fear, but of freedom.

Share

Leave a comment

When I started Set Apart + Called, I never imagined how God would weave even AI into the process.

Ideas arrive like downloads; structure and words flow faster than I can type. The tech simply helps me shape what He’s already giving.

The enemy wants to use every tool for chaos and distraction.

But God?

He repurposes even the same tools to build His kingdom.

This space—every post, every podcast episode—is living proof.

A reminder that nothing is off-limits when it’s surrendered to Him.

So the next time someone insists AI is only darkness, remember:

God can use anything.

Even the unexpected.

Even the things the world fears.

And if He can use something like this, imagine what He can do with your life, every gift, every idea, every platform; fully surrendered.

I’d love to hear your perspective.

Have you seen God use something unexpected for good in your own life?

Share your thoughts or story below—your words might be the encouragement someone else needs today.

Subscribe

Share

Comment

Message me

It isn’t a dramatic escape.

It’s the quiet certainty that you are where you’re meant to be.

It’s waking up knowing you’re walking in purpose—

not bending under other people’s opinions,

not shrinking to fit old expectations.

Freedom feels like this:

a deep breath that finally reaches the bottom of your lungs.

A steady pace that keeps going because it’s mission, not performance.

This healing isn’t only for me.

It’s part of a bigger plan I’m called to live out.

I’ve been thinking about freedom a lot lately—not the kind you see on bumper stickers, but the quiet kind. The kind that sneaks up on you after years of holding your breath.

Maybe you know the feeling.
You spend years worrying what everyone thinks: family, church people, coworkers, even strangers on the internet. You edit yourself in every room. You tiptoe. And then one day you realize… you don’t owe that to anyone.

That’s the day something shifts.
The day you start walking in the purpose God actually gave you, without running it through ten filters first. The day you wake up and think, this is my mission. My lane. My breath to breathe.

For me, freedom has looked like:
- Saying no without writing a three-paragraph apology.
- Creating work that feels risky but right.
- Living like the people who misunderstand me don’t get the final vote.
- Feeling my shoulders drop when I pray and knowing I don’t have to explain a thing.

It isn’t loud. It’s not fireworks or a social-media announcement.
It’s the deep inhale you didn’t know you were waiting for.

What about you?
When have you felt that quiet, internal click—the one that says this is what I was made to do?
Was it leaving something that drained you? Starting something you’d been afraid to start? Finally forgiving someone (or yourself)?

I’d love to hear your version. Drop a note in the comments so others can see the many shapes freedom takes.

Share

Leave a comment

Too many of us are out here performing for approval, for peace, for survival and we don’t even realize it. We learned it young. From our families. From our culture. From watching other women shrink themselves to keep the temperature in the room steady.

It starts small:
Smiling when you don’t feel like smiling, just so someone else doesn’t feel awkward.
Brushing off a rude comment so you don’t “start something.”
Swallowing your truth to keep the peace, even when that peace costs you everything.

Eventually, people call you kind. Strong. Easygoing.
But what they really mean is: you’re convenient.

And what started as self-control becomes self-abandonment.

You stop saying yes to things that exhaust you.
You stop pretending you’re fine when you’re falling apart.
You stop managing other people’s comfort at the cost of your own truth.

And when that happens, when the mask drops and the performance ends, the people who were clapping for the character you played… fall silent.

They don’t ask if you’re okay.
They don’t lean in when you cry.
They tighten when you soften and criticize when you collapse.

But this isn’t just relational.
This is spiritual.

Because here’s the truth no one told you:

That shaking isn’t punishment. It’s exposure.

God isn’t wrecking your life — He’s revealing what was never built on truth.
He’s stripping away the roles you were never meant to play:

✖️ The dutiful daughter who keeps peace at all costs
✖️ The resilient wife who never has needs
✖️ The strong mom who doesn’t flinch when it all falls apart

These identities were forged in survival.
But now God is asking you to live.

And to live fully you have to let the performance die.

You’re not being ungrateful.
You’re not “too much.”
You’re finally just being you.

And if that makes people uncomfortable, let them squirm.

Because the real you doesn’t need applause.
She needs rest.
She needs truth.
She needs a safe place to exhale and be held by a God who never required a performance to begin with.

So if everything feels like it’s shaking — good.
You weren’t built to stand on dysfunction.
You were built to stand on truth.

And when the roles fall away, when the applause dies down, and when the room clears out, that’s when the real healing begins.

The shaking isn’t the end.

It’s the start of your freedom.

Share

Leave a comment

There were bears fishing in the river — fat salmon leaping into the air, just waiting to be caught.
The male bear? He caught one, no problem.
Then mama bear came along, dragging her three cubs behind her, clearly trying to feed them.

But the male?

He chased her off — so he could catch more for himself.

She had to leave her babies behind and find a new place to fish.
And in the chaos, one of her cubs wandered too close to the male’s catch and got attacked.

Then I saw something else.

Another mama bear had left her fishing spot a while ago, not because she was tired, but because she wanted her daughter to have plenty.

She moved so her child could flourish.
Not out of weakness, but out of legacy.

And in that moment, something clicked:
This wasn’t about bears.
This was about us.

Women.
Mothers.
Wives.

We don’t get to be the one who catches the first fish.
We don’t get to hoard resources and protect our peace at all costs.
We don’t chase others off.

We carry.
We feed.
We move over.

And in too many relationships, the man becomes another cub, another mouth to feed, another ego to soothe, another person to walk on eggshells around.

That was my life in a narcissistic marriage.

I was a single married mother.

Not because I didn’t have a husband, but because I was raising one.

And when I left that relationship?
Yes, I grieved. Yes, I healed.

But I also breathed for the first time.

Because I didn’t realize how heavy it had become…
Until I put it down.

But now?

By the grace of God, I’m married to someone who shows up.

A man who provides, protects, and supports me in ways I never thought were possible.
There is no walking on eggshells — there’s partnership.
There’s laughter.
There’s love that gives, not just takes.

And without his steady support, I couldn’t do half of what I do now.

He is proof that it’s not too much to want help.
It’s not too needy to want safety.
And it’s not too late to experience love that doesn’t make you smaller.

The truth is, most women today aren’t just raising children.
They’re holding together entire households — spiritually, emotionally, logistically, all while being told to smile and stay grateful.

But even the bears know...

🐾 The weight is not meant to fall on one.
The village matters.
The partner matters.
And sometimes, peace is what you gain when you finally walk away from what was never yours to carry.

🙏 God Talk Moment

God, give me the strength to protect what You’ve placed in my hands — and the wisdom to let go of what was never mine to hold.

Make me like the second mama bear, the one who moved not out of fear, but out of generational love.

And God, thank You for sending someone to walk beside me, not behind me, not in front of me, but beside me.

Thanks for reading Set’s Substack! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.

As a kid, from the ages of three to fourteen, I would spend hours sketching models and designing clothes. I didn’t have formal training—just paper, pencils, and a quiet room. Ideas seemed to arrive whole. I’d fill notebooks with silhouettes and fabrics that I had no technical words for. Back then I just thought, this is fun.

Lately, while building Set Apart + Called, I’m feeling that same kind of effortless flow—except now I know it’s more than talent.

Episode titles, cover art, even the cadence of the scripts come faster than I can type. It’s the kind of creativity I used to wonder about when I watched musicians or designers talk about “catching a song” or “seeing a dress in their head.” Now I understand: this is Holy Spirit collaboration.

Scripture calls the Spirit a helper and a guide, but He is also Creator. The same Spirit that hovered over the waters at Genesis still hovers over blank pages and empty canvases. When you’re walking in what God built you for, inspiration isn’t forced—it’s downloaded.

This realization changes how I see art of every kind. Maybe that melody someone writes in ten minutes or the painting that arrives in one sitting isn’t random genius. Maybe it’s God breathing ideas into open hearts.

And it reclaims something for me personally. Those childhood fashion sketches weren’t wasted time. They were early training in listening, learning to catch ideas before they disappeared. Now the sketches are words, cover images, and episode structures, but the Source is the same.

If you’ve ever felt a sudden rush of creativity that seems bigger than you, maybe you weren’t just “in the zone.”
Maybe you were partnering with the original Creator.

That was me. For years I lived in a pressure that looked normal on the outside but felt like a slow burn on the inside. I felt utterly alone. I lived the experience where what I said about pain was dismissed, where truth was rewritten, and where the people I loved the most—my children—were pulled into a pattern of deception that felt like an assault on my heart. I tried everything I knew to protect them and to be the mother they needed, and a thousand times I felt like it wasn’t enough.

The fast came out of a broken place: frustration, exhaustion, and a raw prayer that said, simply, Lord, I can’t do this. Please move. I wasn’t fasting to be spiritual or to prove anything. I was fasting because I was desperate. I wanted God to step into what felt impossible—the lies, the alienation, the ways the enemy tried to get at me through my kids.

In the middle of this season, during that quiet and hungry place, the name Set Apart came. At first,I wondered if it would become a book, a blog, a small journal entry I’d tuck away. I didn’t have a plan. I only had obedience and one small step at a time and the sense that God was drawing a line under the next chapter of my life.

It turns out it was bigger than any of those formats. Set Apart has become a project, a ministry, and a public taste of what happens when you stop trying to be reasonable with the unreasonable. The podcast is one way to use my voice: to expose, to name, and to hold a light for the women who are still inside the furnace. The blog is another space for shorter reflections and behind-the-scenes prayers.

What’s already amazed me is the response. I thought I was using my voice to help others. I didn’t expect how quickly other women’s testimonies would start showing up—messages like “I can relate,” “I felt seen,” and “This helped me breathe.” Those words aren’t polite compliments; they are confirmations that God is moving.

If you’re walking in something similar, if your children are being told different stories, if you feel gaslit or silenced, if the people you trusted only see the mask, know this: you are not imagining it, and you are not alone. The thing that drove me to fast wasn’t bitterness. It was a refusal to allow the lie to continue unchecked. I gave it to God and begged for exposure and justice, because my kids are my world, and I couldn’t stand to watch them be molded by deception.

I also believe we’re in a season of spiritual shifting. I see a revival—not just in emotional healing but in God exposing what has been hidden in the dark. Luke 8:17 says, “For nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest…” That promise is real. Over and over I’ve watched small exposures lead to spiritual freedom for women who thought they were trapped forever.

This isn’t a promise of an easy fix. There is still sorrow, and there will be seasons of endurance—what the Bible calls being refined by fire.
1 Peter 1:7 says, “These trials will show that your faith is genuine. It is being tested as fire tests and purifies gold—though your faith is far more precious than mere gold.”

When silver is refined, it’s heated until the impurities rise to the surface. The refiner skims them off, again and again, until he can see his own reflection in the molten metal. Our painful experiences work the same way. God is building something special in us through the very pressure we wish away. Without walking through this fire without facing the chaos and the mind games of a narcissist, how else would I know how to speak into it, to expose it, and to help others find freedom?

And the refining didn’t stop with the name Set Apart.
The very visuals of this podcast have been divinely inspired.
Every episode cover has carried a creative spark I can’t explain on my own, but the main podcast cover, featuring the flaming sword, holds special weight for me.
That image isn’t just striking artwork; it is a symbol of truth that burns through deception.
The flaming sword reminds me that God exposes what darkness tries to hide and protects what He has called apart.
It’s a constant visual declaration that this space stands for light, revelation, and the courage to speak what others would rather keep hidden.

This isn’t a theory for me. It’s the evidence of what God is shaping inside those flames: endurance, discernment, and a voice sharpened to set captives free.

It’s often an inner steadying that says: I know what I’m supposed to do next. I will do it, and I won’t be afraid.

If you’re willing to help me build this space and be a part of the healing wave, here are a few tiny ways that make a big difference:

• Subscribe to the podcast and to God Talk on Substack.

• Share an episode or post with a friend who needs encouragement.

• Pray—I believe prayer moves mountains and opens ears..

Until next time,

(Set Apart + Called)

Subscribe now

Starting the Set Apart + Called podcast has been a huge leap of faith.
For most of my life, public speaking terrified me. In college I once skipped a major presentation and took the grade hit because I was too afraid to stand in front of a room. The fact that I’m now speaking on a public platform still stuns me.

Two things made that possible:

First, God’s push.
This podcast is an answer to a lifelong prayer: What is my purpose?
I don’t have every detail figured out, but in this season I know I’m called to speak about narcissistic abuse and the spiritual war behind it.

Second, the voices of friends who believed before I did.
One friend told me she hopes I launch because “your voice will shake things spiritually.”
She said even my voice memos made her cry. I don’t see myself that way, but her belief definitely gave me confidence.

Here’s what I want you to know:
Narcissistic abuse isn’t limited to marriages or romantic partners. It shows up in families, workplaces, schools, anywhere people yield to control and manipulation. You don’t have to be religious to see the pattern.
But I do believe the pattern is spiritual at its core, and I’ll unpack that in future episodes.

This space is for us to name what’s hidden, so you can recognize it and break free.
It’s the conversation I wish someone had with me.

Thank you for meeting me here.
Drop your thoughts in the comments and let’s keep talking.

Until next time,

(Set Apart + Called)

Subscribe now