Healing in Public Isn’t for the Weak

I disappeared. Not from motherhood. Not from business. Not from ministry. But I stepped away from the spotlight. I stopped posting consistently. I stopped performing. I stopped letting people in—at least publicly. For almost two years, I healed in private. Quietly. Deeply. Honestly. And let me tell you: it was the hardest and holiest thing I’ve ever done. Because when you're used to leading from the front, being seen, being celebrated… going silent feels like failure. But what I know now is that God wasn't punishing me. He was preserving me.

The Disappearance Was the Assignment

There’s a difference between quitting and obeying. I didn’t fall off—I was called aside. God pulled me back to protect me, to process me, and to prepare me. He told me clearly, “You need space to bleed without pressure. You need room to recover without applause.” So I went still. I worked quietly. I raised my children. I rebuilt my business behind the scenes. I talked to God more than I talked to people. And I unlearned the need to prove myself. There were no public declarations. Just silent deliverance.

Working While Weeping

Don’t get it twisted—I didn’t stop moving. I was still showing up for others. I was still building. I was still helping agents close deals. I was still pouring into people who didn’t even know I was pouring from a place of pain. I took calls after crying in the shower. I hosted meetings with a cracked voice. I smiled in Zooms with a swollen heart.
I answered questions I wished someone would ask me. That kind of duality—where you’re strong for others while grieving privately—requires supernatural strength. And yet I know many women doing it every single day. You know what I learned? That kind of service still counts. Even if it’s behind the curtain.

When God Tells You to Sit Down

I used to believe that if I wasn’t visible, I wasn’t valuable. That if I wasn’t posting, I wasn’t walking in purpose. That if I wasn’t “on,” I wasn’t operating in obedience.

But God had to break that mindset. He sat me down to show me that intimacy with Him matters more than influence. He sat me down to remind me that presence is more powerful than performance. He sat me down to heal wounds I had been ignoring because I was too busy being strong. He showed me that healing is a form of worship. And sitting still is sometimes the most radical act of faith.

The Power of Healing Without Performance

You want to know what changed everything? I stopped filtering my faith through other people’s expectations. I stopped thinking I had to smile through every storm. I stopped shrinking my sadness to make others comfortable. I stopped acting like healing had to be cute or convenient. It’s not. Healing is gritty. Unpredictable. Ugly-crying at times. Loud some days. Completely numb on others. And still, God is in all of it. I didn’t share my journey in real-time because I wasn’t healed yet. And I think sometimes we confuse transparency with timing. God will let you share when the scar has sealed. Not before.

What People Don’t See Still Counts

Just because no one posted it doesn’t mean it wasn’t powerful. People didn’t see the counseling sessions. The fasting. The journaling. The scriptures I clung to at 3 a.m. The worship music I played while falling apart on the floor. The literal moments of begging God, “Please just give me peace. They didn’t see the business meetings I held while tears dried on my face. The quiet strength it took to keep going. The boundaries I set. The silence I embraced. They didn’t see it… but heaven did. And that’s enough.

You Can Disappear and Still Be Called

If you hear nothing else, hear this: you can step back without stepping out of purpose. You can disappear from people and still be aligned with God. You can fall apart and still be chosen. You can take time for yourself and still be walking in obedience. Rest doesn’t mean retirement. Silence doesn’t mean surrender. Recovery is not rebellion.

Your life doesn’t need a highlight reel. It needs healing. Real, deep, God-centered healing.

Reappearing With Authority

Now that I’m back in the spotlight—on my terms, in my voice, in my flow—I feel different.

I’m not trying to go viral. I’m trying to go vertical. I’m not posting to be seen. I’m posting to serve. I’m not chasing approval. I’m anchored in assignment. I’ve learned how to lead from my scars, not my wounds. I’ve learned how to show up healed, not hidden. And I’ve learned that the spotlight isn’t a stage—it’s a signal. A signal that God brought me through. And now, I owe it to other women to let them know: you can make it too.