returning home to myself: a journey of redefinition and authenticity

As I sit in this park, reflecting on my own evolution, I think about my younger self. I wonder how different my experiences would have been if I had possessed the self-awareness and wisdom I have now. I could have avoided so many people, places, and situations that were detrimental to my holistic well-being. And yet, would I be the woman I am today without them? Would I have gained the necessary wisdom, resilience, and clarity? While we can learn through books, mentors, and observation, sometimes life requires us to walk through the fire to understand its heat fully.

I grew up provided for and loved, yet there were parts of me that doubted her worth, that questioned if she was truly capable of living her dreams. The trauma of my pre-teen years went unacknowledged, and in turn, I buried myself—my heart, my being, my soul—alive. There were fleeting moments when I felt reconnected, when I experienced presence, stillness, and worthiness. But how long did those moments last? Only I would know, just as only you know how long you have held onto your own self-limiting beliefs.

So how do we remember who we are? How do we return home?

For me, it all started with writing. It was a way to pour my thoughts, frustrations, fears, and dreams onto paper, a sacred release. Writing a poetry book became the turning point, the catalyst that unlocked my soul’s work, and it naturally evolved into journaling. Over the years, I’ve filled 25 journals, and now I’m on my 26th. Each one holds a piece of my journey, my growth, my healing.

I’m deeply moved by the quote, “When the little girl is healed, the woman will show up.” It resonates with me because I stopped avoiding the parts of myself that needed the most attention—specifically my inner pre-teen and teenage self. So much emphasis is placed on healing the inner child, and while that is important, for me, it was my adolescent self who needed the most nurturing. She was the one who dreamed of being a writer, and here I am—writing. She longed to create, and now she is present in every artistic endeavor I pursue. She needed to know that she was safe, cared for, and enough. That healing unlocked a version of me that was waiting to emerge. Returning home to myself didn’t look like some grand, extravagant experience. It didn’t require expensive retreats or seeking external validation. It was simpler than that. It was about seeking the places and practices that truly brought me peace—those quiet moments of reflection, of stillness, of connection with my own heart. It meant redefining every aspect of my life—questioning my thoughts, unearthing their roots, and deciding which beliefs were mine to keep and which needed to be released.

Healing doesn’t have to come in flashy forms. Often times, it’s found in the quiet act of listening to your own heart and gently nurturing the parts of yourself that have been neglected. It’s about creating a safe space for all versions of you to show up, to be loved, and to finally come into alignment with who you’ve always been, deep down.

Years ago, I heard the saying, “God will call you, then heal you through your calling.” That truth has since woven itself into the fabric of my soul. It speaks to the transformation we must undergo to step fully into our highest purpose. Like the caterpillar, I’ve learned that what may feel like an ending is often a profound beginning—the end of unhealthy habits, self-sabotaging patterns, and ways of being that no longer serve me. This process also meant forgiving myself for once holding parts of me back, parts that were only meant to be shared with myself and with God. There’s no shame in opening your heart to your family, friends, and acquaintances—but I’ve learned to be discerning about which pieces of my soul are for others and which are sacred and reserved for my soul. Some treasures are meant for your eyes only.

I am not here to fit into this world. I am here to create my own. I returned home when I realized that I am mine before I am anyone else’s. This understanding became my foundation—knowing that the essence of who I am belongs to me first. It’s a truth I now hold deep within. I am a woman of many dimensions, and who I am is for me to know and unveil.

For me, returning home also meant engaging in intellectual reflection, because yes, intellectual intimacy is top-tier. It’s not just about what we feel, but also about what we know and understand on a deeper level. The merging of mind, spirit, and heart creates a harmonious whole that fuels my growth. Beneath what eyes can see, there is my inner chamber—a sacred sanctuary where my soul finds peace and thrives freely. It’s a place where my truest essence can rest, explore, and create without fear of judgment or limitation. In this place, one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever given to myself is the beauty of embracing my wholeness. It is a gift that has transformed me from fragmented pieces into a whole, powerful being. I am soft and nurturing, yet wild and free. I am both gentle and fierce, embodying all the aspects of myself without hesitation or apology. In my wholeness, I am fully alive, fully present, and fully myself.

I can listen to Tupac on a sunny day and let Sade’s melodies wash over me under the moonlight. I am both the canvas and the clay—fierce and soft, fluid and grounded.

I am a whole, soft, sacred, multidimensional woman.

There have been times when I questioned whether I was on the right path. Moments when I felt exhausted by the weight of expectation and societal conditioning. But every time I have turned inward, every time I have listened to the quiet voice inside of me, I have found my way back.

Who you are meant to be is not for this world to define; you hold the keys to unlock your essence.

Yes, I rose—but naturally still have my thorns. I’ve learned to protect my peace, and though I am not easily triggered, I remain steadfast in upholding my boundaries. My energy is sacred, and it is a privilege to experience my presence and my being. I no longer give myself away freely, for I know the value of what I hold. When we return home to ourselves, we come to deeply understand this truth—that our being is sacred, and we are worthy of being cherished. We can stand in our power, knowing that we are both strong and tender, fierce and gentle, and that we deserve to honor ourselves.

The path to returning home is yours to walk. Allow yourself the grace to explore, to question, to release, and to rebuild. Give yourself permission to move through the process at your own pace, knowing that each step is part of your journey. And remember, you are already on your way home—you always have been.

With love,

Janelle Wisdom