When we’ve been betrayed—by the people we trusted most—the pain can feel like it’s shattered us into pieces. It’s so deep, so raw, that we start to believe we’re broken. And that hopelessness? It’s so heavy that we’ll do just about anything to numb the pain. We reach for whatever helps us escape—whether it’s overworking, drinking, or trying to be perfect—because feeling that kind of hurt seems impossible to bear. But here’s the thing: numbing doesn’t just take away the pain. It takes away everything. It shuts us off from joy, from connection, from love. And most importantly, it reinforces the lie that we’re broken. But we’re not broken. We only think we are. We think we’re broken because the betrayal told us we weren’t enough. We think we’re broken because we’ve learned to hide our pain, to pretend we don’t need love, to believe that something’s wrong with us. But the truth is, we’re not broken. We’re hurt. And there’s a big difference. The antidote to that hurt? It’s letting love in. I know, after betrayal, letting love in feels like the most terrifying thing you could do. But love is the very thing that will heal those wounds. When we open ourselves up to love—real, unconditional love—we begin to see that we’ve been whole all along. The love we let in doesn’t fix us because we were never broken to begin with. Instead, it reminds us of our worthiness. It reminds us that we’re enough, even with the scars, even with the mess. Letting love in is about daring to be vulnerable again. It’s about believing that, even though we’ve been hurt, we are still worthy of connection, still worthy of love. When we stop numbing, when we stop hiding, we give love the space to reach us. And love? It doesn’t ask for perfection. It asks for authenticity, for the real, messy, beautiful parts of us that we’ve been hiding. So, no—you’re not broken. You’ve just been carrying around the weight of that belief for too long. And when you start to let love in, when you let yourself be seen, that’s when healing begins.

Here’s the thing—emotions are part of being human. We don’t get to control whether or not we feel them, but we do have a say in how we respond to them. It’s not about managing your emotions; it’s about managing your reactions to them. When we try to shut down or ignore what we’re feeling, it doesn’t work. In fact, it often makes things worse. Those emotions just build up, and eventually, they come out in ways we don’t want—anger, frustration, maybe even hurtful words or actions we regret. But when we learn to sit with our emotions, acknowledge them, and understand what they’re telling us, that’s where the magic happens. We start to build emotional resilience. We stop reacting impulsively and respond with intention. It’s about pausing and asking, "What’s really going on here?" before we react. Feeling angry, sad, frustrated, or overwhelmed is okay—that’s part of the human experience. The key is learning to respond from a place of clarity and calm, not from a place of chaos. That’s where we find our strength, and that’s where real change happens.

You’re holding a cup of coffee, and someone bumps into you, causing you to spill it everywhere. Why did you spill the coffee? You might think it’s because someone bumped you, but that’s not quite it. You spilled the coffee because the coffee was in the cup. If there had been tea in your cup, you would’ve spilled tea. Whatever’s inside the cup is what comes out when it gets shaken. The same goes for us. When life shakes us—and it will—whatever’s inside is what spills out. It’s easy to stay composed when things are going smoothly, but when we’re rattled, our true emotions show. So the real question is, what’s in your cup? When life gets tough, what spills out of you? Is it joy, gratitude, peace, or humility? Or is it anger, bitterness, victimhood, or frustration? We don’t always have control over life’s bumps and jolts, but we do have control over how we fill our cups. It’s on us to choose what we carry inside. So, today, let’s focus on filling our cups with gratitude, forgiveness, joy, resilience, and kindness. Let’s fill them with love and gentleness for ourselves and others. When life inevitably shakes us, we want what spills over to reflect the best of who we are.

Wisdom is more than knowledge—it’s the quiet, steady force that arises from lived experience, the lessons learned in moments of vulnerability and courage. It’s insight, inspiration, and a deep sense of inquisitiveness. Wisdom allows us to look beyond what we once saw as limits and, instead, see possibilities. It connects us to our abiding strength—the inner resilience that’s been there all along, even when we weren’t aware of it. When we tap into wisdom, we begin to trust ourselves more profoundly than we trust our fear or self-doubt. We stop viewing challenges through the lens of what could go wrong and instead focus on their potential for growth. Wisdom shows us that the impossible is often just what we haven’t tried yet or what we haven’t believed in enough. It whispers, “You’ve been through hard things before and are still here. You’re stronger than you realize.” Abiding strength is that inner reservoir of courage and perseverance that we sometimes forget is there. Wisdom helps us access it by reminding us of our past triumphs, the obstacles we’ve overcome, and the lessons we’ve learned along the way. It teaches us that we don’t need to have all the answers to move forward. We just need to take the next right step, trusting that we have what it takes to figure things out along the way. And that’s how we do what we once thought impossible—not because we suddenly become fearless or the path becomes clear, but because we choose to keep going. Wisdom tells us that real strength is showing up, again and again, especially when the odds feel stacked against us. Over time, we begin to see that what we thought was impossible wasn’t a barrier—it was simply a call to go deeper, to trust ourselves more, and to discover just how powerful we truly are.

Most Americans know what it's like to experience financial trauma, that gut-wrenching fear of not being able to pay the bills. It's not just about the dollars and cents—it's about the shame, the anxiety, and the deep vulnerability that comes with feeling like you're not enough. Living with the constant worry of making ends meet makes it easy to feel isolated and overwhelmed. This kind of fear seeps into every part of our lives. It robs us of our peace, strains our relationships, and leaves us feeling like we're constantly walking a tightrope. The pressure of rising costs, unexpected emergencies, or job uncertainty compounds the stress, making it hard to focus on anything beyond survival. And when we feel like we're barely holding on, it becomes harder to trust ourselves, let alone plan for the future. But here's the thing—financial trauma isn't just about the money. It's about the stories we tell ourselves when we feel out of control. It's about believing we're alone in our struggle when, in reality, so many of us are navigating the same storm. Healing from financial trauma means getting honest about our fears, owning our worth beyond our bank account, and learning to ask for help when we need it. It's about recognizing that our value isn't tied to our income—and that we deserve to live free from the weight of constant fear.