Everything I am in this Now—everything I’ve overcome, everything I do or don’t do today—is because of God/Source. I live, breathe, and move forward with a deep sense of gratitude to the One who carried me through valleys I thought I’d never escape. God/Source truly led me out of the valley of the shadow of death. But there’s a catch: I had to allow it. I had to get out of the way.
My story has been a mix of nightmares and fairy tales—a journey that’s still unfolding, though now with fewer characters than I once imagined. After losing my mother, what I thought was the final blow when it came to losses (I turned out to be very wrong), I battled alcoholism, grief, and the unraveling of relationships that had once felt unshakable. Over the years, even as early as childhood, I faced what felt like an endless series of challenges, though each was ultimately met with some kind of victory—even when that victory was hidden in disguise.
For instance, the innocence stripped away by one of the very “men of God” who was a part of my upbringing shaped my resilience and perspective. One of the hardest challenges that followed, I believe “caused” by that childhood assault, was infertility—an agonizing struggle that, in time, was redeemed by the blessing of my miracle child after numerous miscarriages. And then there was the loss of our home to a “natural disaster,” which, despite the devastation, was met with God’s provision: a miraculous abundance of options, and not a single night spent without a roof over our heads.
I’ve lost people I deeply believed in—people I once thought I couldn’t live without. I’ve witnessed the horrors of disease, both physical and mental, consume them entirely. For some, I’ve watched them walk away without any explanation, leaving only questions in their wake. I’ve endured trials that stripped both myself and my partner to the core, forcing us to confront the limits of our strength—both as individuals and as a couple. Each of these moments was uniquely heartbreaking, yet in hindsight, they were profoundly refining. They taught me to trust in God’s unwavering faithfulness and, ultimately, to place my faith in Source’s boundless ability to transform even the darkest valleys into paths of light and purpose.
And in the end, I’ve come to believe this: if you have not struggled, if you have not suffered, if you have not found yourself on your face before God, then perhaps you have not yet experienced the depth of true blessing.
Through it all, and not all that long ago, one unshakable truth became clear: God never stopped choosing me. Even in my lowest moments, when I couldn’t see my own worth, it was God who held on to me. But I’ve learned that it’s not enough for God to choose us—we must also choose ourselves. It was when I refused to honor myself—when I stayed in places that dishonored me, sacrificed my peace for others, or allowed my worth to be defined by how others treated me—that I struggled the most. When I finally aligned my choices with the way God sees me, everything began to change.
I am convinced that nothing saddens God more than when we refuse to honor, love, and respect ourselves. It’s not just about the idea that by neglecting ourselves, we’re neglecting Source—though the connection is undeniable. It’s deeper than that. God isn’t about vengefulness or punishment, as I was taught in the rigid, hellfire-and-damnation religion I grew up with. No, God is about balance. Source—God—isn’t fueled by anger or regret. Source is energy—creative, loving, restorative energy. Nature abhors a vacuum, and energy always seeks balance. If we are to truly honor the life God has given us and ever experience real joy, we must do the same within ourselves.
When we pour endlessly into others while leaving ourselves empty, the imbalance eventually consumes us. The same is true when we allow ourselves to remain in spaces of dishonesty or mistreatment. That’s not alignment with God’s love—it’s a distortion of it. To live in harmony with Spirit, we must balance the energy within us; or, rather, allow Source to do so. We must allow ourselves to give and receive love, to offer loyalty to others while remaining steadfastly loyal to ourselves, to extend forgiveness to those who hurt us while also creating boundaries to protect our peace. Boundaries breed balance, and balance is not selfish; it is sacred.
That’s what I want to share with you today. If you’ve been loyal to others, showing up for them time and again, only to realize they haven’t been honest, steadfast, or reciprocal, you’re not alone. If you’ve poured your heart out and been left empty, this is your reminder: You matter. God’s love and purpose for your life are bigger than anyone’s treatment of you. You were created with intention, and your energy—your love, your presence—is sacred. Choosing yourself is not only an act of self-respect; it is an act of honoring God.
So how do you choose yourself? Why should you? And how do you let go of the pain while still honoring the person who hurt you as a creation of the Most High? Here’s what I’ve learned on my journey:
1. Recognize that you ARE loved, especially by Source.
You are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14). You are worthy of kindness, respect, and reciprocity—not because of what you’ve done for others but because of who you are, energetically. Choosing yourself isn’t selfish; it’s an act of obedience to God’s will for your life. When you allow yourself to stay in situations that diminish your spirit, you step out of alignment with God’s plan. Choosing yourself is a way of saying, “Lord, I trust Your vision for my life more than my fear of letting go.”
How I Did It:
For years, despite growing up in a Christian home and family and likely because of Christianity, I struggled to see my own worth. I thought my value was tied to how much I gave to others or how hard I worked, whether to “succeed” in career, keep relationships afloat, or in life, in general. It wasn’t until I lost everything—family, home, self-respect—that I was forced to sit in silence and ask, Who does God say I am? I turned to Scripture and prayer, writing down affirmations like “I am loved” and “I am enough.” Over time, I learned to internalize these truths, especially when I felt unworthy.
What I Learned:
God’s love for us isn’t dependent on what we do; it’s based on our hearts and who He created us to be. When I stopped seeking external validation and started aligning with this truth, I found peace and confidence I’d never known. Recognizing that I am truly, wholly loved by Source taught me that I didn’t need to beg for love, approval, or respect from anyone else.
2. See (and ACCEPT) the lessons in the pain.
Even the hardest relationships and experiences serve a purpose in God’s plan. Sometimes, they’re the biggest part of God’s plan—that has been my experience. The people who hurt us often teach us boundaries, strength, and resilience. They help us grow closer to God as we learn to lean on God for healing and clarity. But seeing the lessons is only the beginning—accepting them and acting accordingly is where true growth happens. Acceptance means not just acknowledging the reality of what you’ve been through, but choosing to let the lessons shape your choices, your boundaries, and your future.
This is why introspection is so important. Taking the time to reflect on your experiences, your choices, and your patterns isn’t “overthinking”—it’s honoring the growth process, and it is what fertilizes the fruit of discernment. Introspection allows you to see not only what happened but why it happened and how to prevent the same mistakes or misalignments from repeating. True introspection is productive, not self-destructive; it’s a necessary tool to fully accept and integrate the lessons life teaches you.
How I Did It:
For years, I replayed painful moments in my head, questioning why certain people betrayed me or why some relationships fell apart. At first, I resisted the pain, clinging to resentment and self-pity. But when I prayed for clarity and asked God to help me not only see the lessons but also accept and internalize them, everything began to shift. For instance, one person’s betrayal taught me how to set boundaries—a skill I lacked for most of my life. Another relationship taught me the importance of reciprocity, and I made the intentional decision to seek relationships where the giving and receiving of love and support are mutual. By reflecting deeply and acting on what I learned, I began to create a life more aligned with God’s plan for me.
What I Learned:
Pain isn’t meaningless—it’s a tool for growth. But growth doesn’t happen unless you take what the pain teaches you and apply it. Introspection isn’t “overthinking”; it’s the necessary process of understanding what the pain is revealing to you and how to move forward in a way that honors your lessons. When I stopped asking “Why me?” and started asking “What about me or my actions contributed to this? What can I learn, and how do I act on this?” I found purpose in even the hardest experiences. Acceptance gave me the courage to let go of what no longer served me and embrace the choices and changes that would help me thrive. It’s not easy, but it’s the only way to truly move forward.
3. Pray for those who’ve hurt you — and do it from the SOUL.
The Bible teaches us to pray for our enemies (Luke 6:27-28), and while that’s often easier said than done, it’s one of the most powerful actions of faith you can take. When you pray for someone who wronged you, and you do it from love, you release bitterness and open the door for God to work in both their life and yours. Praying for them doesn’t mean excusing their behavior—it means trusting God’s justice, grace, and ultimate plan.
How I Did It:
This was one of the hardest steps for me. When someone broke my trust or treated me unfairly, the last thing I wanted to do, initially, was pray for them. I was hurt, and I was angry. I was human. But I had to transcend that. I had to lean on God, and I learned that forgiveness and prayer aren’t about condoning the actions of others—they’re about freeing myself and the environmental energy around me from bitterness. I started small, asking God to help me feel genuine compassion for those who hurt me. Over time, my prayers shifted from obligation to authenticity, and I began to genuinely hope for their healing and growth.
What I Learned:
Praying for those who hurt me taught me that forgiveness isn’t about them—it’s about my relationship with God. Releasing my anger allowed me to step into peace and gave God room to work in ways I couldn’t.
4. “Let Go and Let God.”
Letting go doesn’t mean forgetting or pretending the pain didn’t happen. It means surrendering the situation to God’s hands. It’s saying, “Lord, I’ve done what I can. I trust You to handle the rest.” Letting go is a daily choice, one that releases you from carrying the weight of someone else’s actions and opens you up to God’s peace and provision.
Letting go doesn’t erase the scars, but it transforms them. It allows you to release the bitterness that binds you to the past and embrace the hope that God’s plan is bigger than your pain. It’s not about denying what was lost but about trusting that what lies ahead will carry greater meaning and purpose. Letting go is an act of faith that invites healing, restores balance, and opens the door for joy to return.
How I Did It:
Letting go was a process, not a single moment. I began by journaling the pain and frustration, writing letters to God about everything I couldn’t control. Then I’d pray, literally saying, “God, I’m giving this to You because I can’t carry it anymore.” Whenever I felt tempted to revisit old wounds or try to control the outcome, I’d remind myself of His promises in Scripture.
What I Learned:
Letting go is an act of trust, and it’s not always easy. But every time I surrendered a situation, I felt lighter, freer, and closer to God. It’s amazing how much peace comes when you release what was never yours to hold.
5. Create space for joy and growth.
Choosing yourself means making room for what God has in store. It looks like setting boundaries that protect your peace, surrounding yourself with people who pour into you, and pursuing the dreams Source has placed in your heart. It’s walking in the confidence that God will fill the empty places with joy, purpose, and abundance.
How I Did It:
After letting go of the toxicity I had encountered in both the good and bad relationships of my life—and more importantly, releasing my own toxic patterns of behavior and thought—I discovered a newfound emotional and mental freedom. With that space, I was able to focus on the things that truly mattered: my health, my dreams, and nurturing relationships with people who genuinely loved and supported me. I learned to set boundaries—not build walls—to protect my peace without shutting others out. I also spent more time with God, seeking guidance and asking Source to reveal the purpose and direction for my life.
What I Learned:
Creating space isn’t just about removing what drains you—it’s about welcoming what fills you. As I focused on joy, gratitude, and growth, I discovered new opportunities and deeper connections. God can’t pour into a cup that’s already full of what doesn’t serve you.
6. Trust God, Source, the Universe—whatever name you’ve given it—because it’s REAL.
Perhaps this should realistically be the first thing on this list, not the last. But let’s be honest—when we’re in the thick of it, hearing phrases like “Have faith!” or “You just need to trust!” often stirs up resentment instead of comfort. Why would we trust, after all, when all we can see through the lens of our pain and human perspective is evidence that God has abandoned us? I totally get it. And yet…
Trust is the foundation of faith. Trusting God, Source, or the Universe isn’t just a feeling; it’s an act—a decision to believe in what you can’t yet see. Energy is real, and the science of spirituality is real. Every choice you make in faith aligns your energy with the Creator who designed you and the path you’re meant to walk. Trusting is how you prove to yourself—and to God—that you are serious about stepping into the life He has for you.
How I Did It:
There was a time in my life when I doubted everything: my purpose, my worth, and whether God truly cared about me. But time and again, I noticed the evidence of His hand in my life—moments when things aligned in ways I couldn’t explain. Small acts of trust led to bigger shifts: saying “yes” to opportunities I wasn’t sure I was ready for, letting go of people I feared I couldn’t live without, and following paths that didn’t seem clear at first. I leaned into the idea that the energy I put out—faith, gratitude, surrender—would always come back in blessings and clarity.
What I Learned:
Trust is the ultimate act of faith. It’s not just believing that God exists; it’s living like you believe He’s actively working in your life. When I trusted God fully, even in the hardest moments, I found that doors opened, paths cleared, and peace replaced fear. Energy responds to energy. The more I trusted, the more I received. Trusting doesn’t mean you’ll always understand what’s happening—it means you believe that what’s happening is for your good.
If you struggle with the idea of “God” because of religious trauma, this added point is for you:
Recognize the Bible as a tool for Christ Consciousness, not religion.
One of the most profound shifts in my journey was realizing that the Bible isn’t about Christianity or religion—it’s a tool to birth Christ Consciousness. This understanding changed everything. It wasn’t about dogma, rules, or the rigid traditions I was raised with. Instead, I came to see that the spirituality of Christ Consciousness is about love, compassion, balance, and alignment with Source.
I didn’t leave God; I left the earthly “church.” That was the rhetorical number one thing that changed me—and it was through this lens that I began to truly heal. For so long, I felt disconnected because the religion I grew up with was rooted in fear, shame, and punishment. But stepping away from the dogma allowed me to reconnect with the essence of God’s love and truth.
The Bible, I realized, is not a rulebook to keep us in line—it’s a guide to understanding the divine energy within us and around us. Christ Consciousness isn’t confined to a denomination; it’s about awakening to the truth of who we are, made in God’s image, and walking in alignment with that truth. This awakening freed me from the chains of guilt and fear and allowed me to embrace God’s love in its purest form.
When I began to see the Bible as a tool for awakening—not for condemnation—it became a source of hope and empowerment instead of a weapon of judgment. This shift wasn’t about rejecting God; it was about rejecting what no longer served my spiritual growth. Once I began to see myself as a reflection of Christ-consciousness—of divine love and purpose—I realized that choosing myself wasn’t selfish; it was faithful. Aligning with God’s truth meant aligning with the truth of who I was created to be: someone worthy of love, joy, and peace.
Why should you choose yourself?
Because God never stopped choosing you. When you awaken to Christ-consciousness—the divine truth within you—you begin to see that God chose you long before you even realized your own worth. He chose you when He formed you, when He carried you through the valley, and when He gave you the strength to rise again. When you choose yourself, you’re aligning with God’s love and purpose. You’re stepping out of a cycle of pain and stepping into the life He created for you. You’re letting go of what doesn’t serve you and making room for His blessings.
How I Did It:
I started seeing my life as a reflection of God’s love. If God chose me, how could I not choose myself? I began making decisions that aligned with His vision for me, even when they felt scary or unfamiliar. I reminded myself that choosing myself wasn’t selfish—it was faithful.
What I Learned:
When you choose yourself, you honor the God who made you. When you choose yourself, you choose Source. You say, “Lord, I trust Your plan, and I’ll step boldly into the life You’ve created for me.”
What does choosing yourself in a righteous way look like?
Choosing yourself doesn’t mean cutting others off with anger or resentment. It means loving them from a distance while honoring your own boundaries. It means praying for them even as you move forward. It’s releasing control and trusting God to heal what’s broken. It’s finding strength in quiet moments, peace in surrender, and joy in the new opportunities God brings your way.
How I Did It:
I chose to set boundaries with grace, releasing resentment while still protecting my peace. I prayed for the people I let go, asking God to bless them while I focused on the new path He was leading me toward.
What I Learned:
Choosing yourself doesn’t mean rejecting others; it means loving them in a way that also allows you to love yourself. It’s about creating space for God to work in both your life and theirs, trusting that His plan is always better than our own.
Choose yourself, not in defiance of others, but in alignment with the love and purpose God has for you. Let Source work in your heart, trust Source with your future, and watch how the pain transforms into something beautiful.
Through all the challenges I’ve faced, God has shown me, again and again, that Source is faithful. Source has been my provider, my guide, and my reason to keep going. If Source could bring me through the valley, I promise Source can do the same for you. Trust Source with your heart, your future, and your healing. You are not alone, and you are not forgotten.
God/Source believes in you. And so do I. You were made for more than survival—you were made for joy, peace, and purpose. The best chapters of your life are still ahead, waiting to be written by the hand of divine love. You carry the spark of Christ-consciousness within you—a reflection of God’s light, power, and creativity. Trust Source to guide you through every uncertainty, every fear, and every hope. Choose yourself as Source chooses you every single day. Step forward in faith, and watch as the extraordinary life you were created for begins to unfold.
The Twin Tree Project 