When Curating Feels Like Disobedience
Heyyy!
There’s no podcast episode this week. Why? Because I fell into a trap—the trap of curating content and ✨sprinkling a little bit of me✨ into it, instead of doing what I’ve been told to do: tell my unadulterated story.
Truthfully, I’ve been trying to talk around myself instead of owning who I am and sharing from the heart. (Disobedience, anyone?)
And let me tell you—it’s uncomfortable.
It’s Difficult Because:
What does this have to do with finance?
For years, my identity has been so tied to helping women manage their money that it feels risky to pivot. Here’s where my faith is really being tested: I’m slowly realizing God may be carving me out of that space to carve something new. And letting go of what feels safe? Whew 😮💨, it’s a lot.
Vulnerability on the internet?
People are mean. (Some of y’all are funny mean, but still mean.) Opening up and being real in a space where anyone can throw stones feels… scary. Yet, I’m realizing that vulnerability is the bridge to authenticity—even when it feels like I’m walking that bridge alone.
I don’t know where my story will take me.
Being vulnerable means giving up control. Sharing my story means trusting that wherever it leads, it’s worth the risk. This is an area where my faith is being stretched, and I’m learning to trust the process.
Who am I as a person?
For so long, I’ve defined myself by what I do—the roles I play, the responsibilities I carry, the expectations I try to meet. But who am I when I take those off? That’s the question I’m exploring in real time, out in the open, with no clear roadmap.
Here’s the messy truth...
I’m healing.
I’m rebuilding my relationship with God.
I’m learning how to find balance—not the perfect, Pinterest-worthy kind of balance, but the messy, real-life, figuring-it-out-as-I-go kind.
Last night, my counselor asked me:
“If the little girl version of you asked ‘why’ to all the things she experienced, what answer could you give to provide her comfort?”
After thinking about it, I realized the answer wouldn’t provide comfort. And you know what my counselor said?
“THAT’S OKAY.”
For the first time in my life, I realized that telling the truth and providing comfort don’t always go together.
And maybe you’re like, “Duh, what are you even talking about?” But for me, it was a moment of freedom.
I’m someone who has always tried to dress up the truth to make others feel comfortable—shrinking myself and my experiences in the process.
The truth is:
I’m in the middle of a shift. A shift that’s forcing me to ask:
“What’s next?”
“Who am I when I’m not wearing all of my hats?”
“How do I show up as my full, unfiltered self?”
Here’s the thing, I don’t have all the answers. But I do know that I can’t keep trying to be a bystander in my own story. I have to step up, own it, and trust that my unfiltered truth will resonate with the people it’s meant to.
So, here’s to imperfect stories, shaky first steps, and trusting God to carve new spaces when the old ones no longer fit.
Thanks for being here, for reading, and for making this space feel safe enough to be real.
Talk soon,
AttiQuewa
