My Week of Purging, Pain, and Divine Alignment

My prayer for 2026 is to get off God’s strongest soldiers list, because baby… this week dragged me through bootcamp. It was jam-packed with lessons on lessons on lessons—ending with me ugly crying in my Benz with rain pouring down. Cue the dramatics, but also? It was necessary.

Let me be clear: when you’re an empath, you feel everything. I can read between the lines of what people say and don’t say, and I can feel their intentions almost instantly. Sometimes it hits me right away, but most times it hits later—when I’m alone, processing. And whew… this week tested my spirit.

My drives to and from work are when I get real with myself. That’s where I realized: I tried to teach someone a lesson they weren’t ready to learn. And of course, it backfired. Someone who is inconsiderate and only thinks of themselves cannot be taught until they decide they’re ready. The lesson went right over their head—and I still had to clean up the mess.

Who am I to think I can do God’s job? I’m a spiritual being having a human experience, just like everyone else. Not everyone is as accountable or self-aware as I am on this healing journey. That doesn’t give me authority to make anyone see their faults. I can only control me.

Mindset 101:

Never let your emotions be the cause of your actions.

And the real lesson? Mind your own fucking business.

The Dating Lesson: Mr. Twenty-Fine Exits the Chat

Wheww… this part was heavy.

My favorite on my little dating roster was not showing up the way I thought he would. Mr. Twenty-Fine has officially left the chat. And yes, I saw it coming. I just didn’t want to accept it.

When I tell you that man is fine? I mean FINE. Physically? My exact type. And he made me feel sexy in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. Three years into my celibacy journey and baby… the desire is still there even if the action is not.

He was the spark, but there was no flame.

We went from hot and heavy to dry and fragile real quick. And in that shift, I realized I want more. I am a lover girl through and through. No matter how many times I get hurt or ghosted, my soft girl always comes back.

I deserve depth. Connection. Intention. Consistency. Not surface-level crumbs.

When I switched from spicy to soulful, he couldn’t follow. That’s when I knew: this was chemistry, not connection.

After a few silent days, I reached out. I told him what I wanted moving forward—depth, consistency, real connection along with the spice. But here’s the part I ignored: he told me in the beginning what he wanted. Fun. Short-term. Light. Flirty.

And he stayed consistent with that, even inside a thoughtful response.

We agreed that if things changed, we’d talk again. And then? He disappeared. Four days of silence. And I kept repeating:

If he wanted to, he would.

If he wanted to talk, he would.

If he wanted to plan the date, he would.

If he wanted me, he would.

And he didn’t.

So I planned a solo date to pour back into myself.

Because the same energy I was pouring out trying to be chosen, seen, and desired… I was losing grip on my own reality. I needed to nurture me.

I am the prize.

I prayed this week for God to remove what’s not for me—and baby, He moved quick. I reached out with a simple “hey?!” and got hit with:

“I’m not feeling it anymore… I’m not ready… I can’t give you what you want.”

My reply? “Okay, thanks for letting me know.”

But inside, reality hit like a ton of bricks.

The Real Purge: It Wasn’t About Him

It wasn’t really about him. He was the catalyst.

He represented the last remnants of a version of me I’m actively shedding:

the anxious attachment

the fantasy, not the reality

overgiving and overexplaining

romanticizing scraps

seeing potential instead of the person

making men emotionally bigger than they are

wanting so badly to finally be chosen

He cracked me open just enough for Spirit to come in and clean house.

Breakdown → Breakthrough

After my solo paint-and-sip date, the sangria hit harder than the lesson. I walked into pouring rain, checked my phone, and saw I’d been deleted off social.

I lost it.

Not because of him deleting me… but because it felt like I was being erased.

I sat in my car—my big body Benz I worked my ass off for—and cried. Not the cute cry. The ugly cry. The purging cry. The “I’m tired of this cycle” cry.

And honestly? It was divine.

Because healing doesn’t mean you don’t hurt.

Healing means you recover faster.

Spirit was loud this entire week. From the static electricity in everything I touched, to Summer Walker’s “1800-HEARTBREAKLINE” playing as I walked to my car, to the rain pouring down the same moment my tears needed to fall.

What my mind wanted to hold onto, my soul released.

Temptation always shows up when you’re breaking cycles. But choosing yourself shifts everything immediately. I processed the whole thing in under 24 hours.

That’s not heartbreak.

That’s reclaiming my power and creating my own closure.

Mantra: I am worthy. I am becoming. I am aligned with everything meant for me.

Healing is not meant to look perfect- it’s meant to make you powerful. Every tear, purge, every moment you feel like breaking is carving you into the divine being you prayed to become. Trust the process. Trust your growth. Trust the divine timing that holds you.

Asé