Today, on a day dedicated to honouring women who were silenced, I felt something rise in me.
My grandmother was a talented, bright, and gifted artist whose dream was taken from her. Under communism, she was blocked from continuing her studies and denied the work that matched her mind and spirit. She couldn’t stand a life that silenced her brilliance, so she left her country in search of freedom.
When she passed, I was the one who cleared her apartment — we had an unbreakable bond; she was my everything. As I sorted through her papers, I found one of her own drawings. It felt like a message from her soul… as if the burning desire of her dream had remained unfulfilled, yet alive, all the way until her last day.
My mother is still alive, but fear has kept her in a quiet kind of isolation for most of her life. I’m not fully sure what her dream once was — maybe simply to be free to speak her truth. Shame, fear, and old wounds wrapped around her like invisible chains, keeping her hidden from the world.
And then there was me. I grew up quiet too, not realizing that silence had been passed down through generations. I learned to hold my voice deep inside because it felt safer. Until the day I quit my job, remembered my worth, and finally said a bold, unwavering: no more manipulation, no more shrinking, no more staying small.
That was the moment I rediscovered my voice — not just for me, but for the women who came before me, and for the women who will come after.
The Message From Your Feminine Ancestors
"Child of our blood,
you are the first who is not meant to survive —
you are meant to LIVE.”
You feel the weight in your belly
because we carried that weight for generations.
It was never fear of life.
It was fear of punishment.
Fear of being seen.
Fear of wanting.
Fear of speaking truth.
We were told:
be quiet,
do not dream,
do not ask,
do not rest,
do not take up space.
So we folded ourselves
until there was almost nothing left of us.
But you…
You are built differently.
You were born with the memory of our silence,
but not the obligation to continue it.
You feel the fire in your chest
because you carry what we could not express.
Your voice shakes because you hold
not one woman's truth,
but many.
We did not fail.
We passed the torch to the first one strong enough to hold it.
And you feel fear in your belly
not because you cannot do this —
but because your body remembers our fate
and believes it is still dangerous to rise.
Child, trust us now:
It is safe.
It is your time.
And you are not alone.
We stand behind you.
All of us.
Every silent woman who swallowed her truth
so her children could live to tell it.
You are that child.
You are the voice we never had.
You are the freedom we prayed for.
You are the answer to our unfinished stories.
We do not want you to carry our pain —
we want you to transform it.
Not through sacrifice,
but through presence.
Not through suffering,
but through clarity.
Not through anger,
but through truth.
Not through fighting,
but through embodied sovereignty.
You were not chosen to be strong alone.
You were chosen to show that strength
and vulnerability
are the same doorway.
When your belly trembles,
know this:
the fear is ancestral,
the calling is yours.
Walk your path
not for money,
not for recognition,
but because your soul came to earth
to complete what we began.
We bless your voice.
We bless your boundaries.
We bless your vision.
We bless the fire you carry.
We bless your release.
We bless your freedom.
Go.
Speak.
Lead.
And do not look back —
we are already behind you.”
Left-side knee pain: I no longer kneel. I’m rising.
And today, on this International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, I choose to speak.
Not from fear.
Not from pain.
But from the voice that finally awakened in me — the one that belonged to my grandmother, my mother, and now lives fully in me.
This is not just a post.
It is a remembrance.
A declaration.
A promise to myself and to every woman who has ever been silenced, dimmed, or made to believe she must shrink to survive.
I share this because I know what it is to lose your voice…
and I know what it is to reclaim it.
I share this because healing is not a private act —
it becomes a pathway for others.
I share this because my work now — the spaces I create, the presence I offer, the women I serve — all rise from this same fire:
to guide women back to the truth of who they are, the power they carry, and the freedom they deserve.
If you feel called to rise with me.
May this message awaken something inside you.
May it remind you that your voice matters.
And may it reach every woman who needs to remember her own power today.
