This wasn’t the launch I planned.
I had July 14 circled in my spirit, a quiet soft open for everything I’d been building behind the scenes: the Soul Stories, the healing resources, my new website, and the deeper work I’m finally ready to share.
But then came the freak accident.
A fractured wrist. Me, driving myself one-handed and in pain to the ER. The diagnosis? Surgery required to put a metal plate and screws in my wrist. A painful, unexpected procedure. Requiring months of recovery. Costly medical bills (and that’s with insurance). And I couldn’t move without feeling like I’d been hit by a Mack truck.
Everything stopped. My bed became both sanctuary and battleground. I couldn’t drive. I couldn’t write. I couldn’t go on my morning walks. In other words, everything I thought created my ability to create was suddenly upended.
And for seven days, I stayed still, me and my pain. Not just physically, but spiritually, and emotionally. And if I’m honest, I almost let myself slide into that old familiar space:
Why me? Why now? Woe is me.
But then… something shifted.
I was lying in bed, arm in a cast wrapped in restrictive, painful bandages. And I started talking to my reflective journal. About the pain. About my rollercoaster of emotions. About how my 83 year old mama showed up so tenderly for me exactly the way I show up for others. About how hard it is to be someone who loves solitude… but now has to ask for help.
Even in this freak accident, I could feel myself still learning to heal deeper emotionally, still growing, still learning what it means to receive care, not just give it. And somehow, in the middle of that raw, ordinary, sacred mess, talking into my reflective journal, I unintentionally began creating again.
Something organic, powerful, and healing was renewed.
I started nourishing my body again. Eating, even when I didn’t feel like it. Staying hydrated. Taking my meds on time. And working through the guilt I felt for lying in bed, even after surgery. Even in pain.
Because so many of us, especially Black women, have been conditioned to give, to grind, to keep going even while we’re breaking. Rest hasn’t always felt like a right. But my body needed rest more than it needed resilience. And I’m learning to honor that.
That’s when I realized, this was the launch. Not the one I mapped out. Not the one I rehearsed. But the one that was right on time.
Because soft power doesn’t wait for perfect. It finds you where you are. It finds you in the old stories you’ve told yourself. In the discomfort. In the breakdowns you didn’t see coming. This wasn’t a setback. It was a setup. Not for pity. But for purpose.
So yes, I did launch. Not on July 14 like I had originally planned. But on the day my spirit said, Now. I launched from my bed, in a cast, one-handed, pecking and dictating, while learning how to receive help, make peace with rest, and create through pain.
And when the dust settled, what I walked away with wasn’t just content. It was clarity. It was confirmation – confirmation about the healing capacity of reflective journaling and a made up mind. It was a deeper understanding of the woman I’ve become and what’s possible for you, too.
If you’re reading this now, that means the Soul Stories are live. The downloads are ready. The doors are open. And more than that, I’m open.
I’m open to help women heal deeper, rise higher, and live fully.
So come on in, Sis. This isn’t just my launch.
This is your becoming.
Ready to begin?
Download Too Healed for That: 12 Soul Stories of Healing & Growth
and take your first step into the Soft Power Sanctuary.
It’s free, it’s honest, and it’s designed to meet you right where you are.
Your healing matters ~ so do you.
~Kofi