Dee's World

05/06/2025

"SACRED VIOLENCE"

They call it tradition
but tradition should never taste like blood.
Should never sound like a child
screaming into cloth
as steel replaces innocence.

Infibulation.
A word dressed in syllables
too soft for what it means.

They cut.
Not for health.
Not for healing.
They cut to own her.

They strip her of what makes her whole,
then stitch the wound closed
like her body is an error
God forgot to erase.

A slit remains,
barely enough for blood,
not enough for breath.
She urinates through pain.
She bleeds in silence.
She heals in fear.

Legs bound for weeks
tied like truth they’re trying to hide.
Her stillness mistaken for obedience,
but it’s trauma wearing a quiet face.

And when she “belongs” to a man
he reopens what should’ve never been sealed.
He splits her back into pain
so he can call it pleasure.

Love?
There is no love
in tearing open a wound
just to satisfy a myth.

And still
we stay silent.
We let it pass as “custom.”
We whisper,
"That’s how it’s always been."

But no one asks:
What happens to the girl
after the bleeding stops?

She grows into a woman
haunted by her own body.
Urinary tract infections,
fistulas,
infertility
and still they say:
"Be proud. Be pure."

But purity should not come
with a price tag of pain.
And dignity
shouldn’t be carved out with a blade.

The worst part?
It’s not the men.
It’s the women
mothers, aunties, midwives
the same hands that once rocked her
now prepare the knife.

So NO!
feminism is not about dishes
or splitting bills.
It’s about this.
About girls
being cut for control.
About silence passed down like inheritance.

This is where the fight begins.
Where the noise must rise.

Because this is not sacred.
It is not holy.
It is not her destiny.

It is violence
carried out
in the name of protection.

An oxymoron wrapped in culture.
A war dressed as ceremony.

And we must call it by name.

Say no to silence.
Say no to pain passed off as pride.
Say no to infibulation.

Say yes
to her freedom,
her wholeness,
her God-given right to feel safe
in her own skin.

🖋️ Dee.

01/06/2025

SHE DIED, SO I LIVE!

There came a point in my walk,
where comfort became a cage.
Where what once felt safe,
started to suffocate.
Because God kept calling me out
of what I had settled for.

I had been asking for new life,
but holding on to old patterns.
Begging for freedom,
while wrapping myself in chains
I had chosen, for the sake of familiarity.

Along the line, here’s a Truth I learnt,
"God won’t resurrect what He’s calling you to crucify."

Certain friends, Old habits, the identity I once built in survival,
they couldn't follow me into purpose.
Some things were only meant to carry me through the wilderness,
not into the Promised Land.
The version of me that fit there,
cannot reign here.
She was necessary for then,
but she cannot wear the crown of now.

So yes,
I let her die,
As should you.
Not in shame,
but in obedience.

This is to you,
praying for overflow,
but still eating crumbs, at tables God told you to leave.
You’re asking Him to part the sea,
when your feet haven’t even moved.

God isn’t trying to shame you;
He’s trying to shape you.

You’re not losing yourself,
you’re shedding what you were never meant to carry.

And don’t you dare blame the storm.
Don’t resent the shaking.
Don’t point at the enemy
when God is the One stirring the waters
to awaken your spirit.

You are the mountain.
And with faith the size of a mustard seed,
you can move you.

This isn't just behavior modification,
it's transformation.
This is the Spirit of God saying:
"It ends with you.

God won’t just ask for your yes,
He’ll ask for your death.
Not of your body,
but of every version of you
that can’t carry the weight of His promise.

The life you’re called to
doesn’t fit the habits you’ve normalized.
The circles you entertain.
The comfort zones you've mistaken for peace.

Some of what feels like "you"
was shaped in survival,
not in Spirit.

And now?
He’s calling you out of Egypt
while you’re still packing bags for the wilderness.
Still asking if you can bring your idols.
Still holding hands with compromise
and wondering why freedom feels far.

Let it go!
You cannot walk into destiny
dragging the graveyard of who you used to be.
The old wine skin can’t stretch for new glory.
The wilderness version of you
cannot enter the Promised Land.

You are the tipping point between
who you were
and who you were anointed to become.

Don’t blame the storm.
Don’t curse the delay.
It’s not the devil.
It’s discipline.

So rise,
Let go,
Move forward,
And trust the process!
Cause........
What’s ahead is holy!

🖋 Dee.

27/05/2025

THE CHILDLIKE RHYTHM

Children carry a quiet power
not hidden,
just erased by grown-ups too busy pretending.

They don’t negotiate with tiredness,
they crash hard, unapologetic,
resting like it’s a rebellion.
No shame. No guilt. Just truth.
“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

They don’t bottle pain.
They flood the world with tears,
rivers that wash away lies,
rivers that clear space for realness.
They don’t ask permission to break,
they break to become whole.
“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” (Psalm 147:3)

They laugh like the world owes them nothing,
like joy is a riot, not a reward.
No filters, no reasons, no waiting, just raw light.
“A joyful heart is good medicine.” (Proverbs 17:22)

What if we traded all our "shoulds,"
our “fake it till you make it,”
our “keep it together” lies,
for this wild, untamed knowing?

’reTired,
Clock? Calendar?
Forget them.
Your body is holy ground.
Worship it with rest.
Rest is rebellion.
Rest is power.
“Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.” (Isaiah 40:30-31)

,
Don’t hold it in.
Tears aren’t weakness;
they’re the cleansing fire
burning down your walls.
“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35)
Sometimes breaking is part of healing.

,
Let joy break loose,
shake the ground,
raise the dead parts inside you.
“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice!” (Philippians 4:4)

Here’s the real truth,
healing isn’t performance,
it’s unlearning,
shedding the armor,
ripping off the mask,
finding the child you buried alive.

That rhythm, the one you thought you lost,
it’s still beating,
waiting for you to remember how to live loud and wild again.

So today,
give yourself permission to crash,
to flood,
to riot in laughter.

Unlearn what they told you was strength.
Remember who you really are:

Wild.
Free.
Alive.

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

🖋️Dee.

26/05/2025

The Choice to Rise

Growth isn’t about what you gain
it’s about the choices you make.
Not magic, not shortcuts
but surrender, sacrifice, and breaking chains.

Just like the caterpillar in the dirt,
you need to die to who you were
to become who God’s calling you to be.

It’s hard
the fire refines,
the breaking molds,
the shaking that wakes your soul.

But Scripture says:
“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2)
not by comfort,
not by ease.

You’re called to step out,
to leave the old skin behind,
to walk through the wilderness,
knowing God’s hand is leading you
even when the way’s dark.

The power to evolve?
It’s already inside you,
placed there by the Creator,
waiting for your faith to ignite it.

So don’t wait for perfect courage.
Pray for strength.
Take the leap.
And watch the God who never fails
turn your scars into wings.

Because growth?
It’s not just change
it’s resurrection.

🖋️ Dee

26/05/2025

"ZERO HARD FEELING”

Ignore who Ignores you.
Simple math,
Energy’s a currency
stop spending it where it’s not returned.
If they went ghost,
let them haunt someone else.

Unlove them.
Detach with silence.
Unfollow with pride.
Delete the access

They didn’t see your worth?
Then don’t dim yourself
to fit their shadow.

They hand you space?
Hold it like power,
hold it like peace.
Match the silence.
It's a warning!

You’re not heartless,
just healed enough
to walk away
without the need
for closure.

And while they edit their guilt,
You owe them absolutely no reaction.
Then, they crawl back with
“Hey… you good?”
Never say you forgot me.
Just smile, cause such absence
Shouldn't touch you at all.

Your silence isn’t weakness.
It’s the roar they weren’t ready for.

You outgrew their comfort.
Now you're cold.
Unreachable.
Unbothered.

Zero hard feeling,
it's time you move on,
And never double back.

🖋️ Dee.

20/05/2025

“BEAUTY IN THE BREAKAGE”

She doesn’t run from silence
she listens.
Catches whispers in the stillness,
lessons in the lull.

Pain doesn't paralyze her
it teaches.
She gathers every ache like a map,
charting purpose through the wilderness.

Her scars?
She doesn’t cover them.
She lets them shine, proof she bled,
stood back up,
and chose to grow anyway.

Her past doesn’t cage her,
it chisels her.
Pressure made diamonds,
fire made her gold.

She’s not made of ease,
she’s made of endurance.
Not untouched,
but transformed.

She found power in the pieces,
peace in the pressure,
hope in the haunting,
and praise in the pain.

She rewrites wounds into worship,
turns heartbreak into holy ground,
lets every setback echo,
not as defeat
but as the sound of faith marching forward.

'Cause when life tried to bury her,
God called her seed.
And what blooms now
isn't just survival
it’s TESTIMONY.

She’s not just rising
She’s resurrected.
Grace-covered.
God-kept.
Glory-bound.

And you can’t break what Heaven holds.

🖋️ Dee.

07/05/2025

"BALANCE OVER BURNOUT"

I was raised an Overdrive,
Sleep when you're dead, they said.
So I ran on fumes,
called it favor,
but it was fatigue dressed in Sunday's best.

I wore “busy” like a badge,
thinking hustle made me holy.
But even Jesus rested.
Even God paused.
Day 7, He sat back, called it good
and didn’t apologize for the stillness

Now I’m choosing balance over burnout.
Not weakness, wisdom.
Not quitting, quiet strength.
Not slacking, Sabbath.
Because even lions lie down before they roar again.

I’ve poured from empty,
smiled while sinking,
shouted praise with a clenched jaw,
calling it purpose
while my peace was on life support.

Truth is...
you can serve and still be starving.
You can win in public
and lose your soul backstage.

I was addicted to applause
but allergic to presence.
Could quote verses,
but forgot how to breathe.

Then I found Matthew 11:28
sitting soft in red letters:
"Come to me, all who are weary..."
Not come perfect.
Not come polished.
Just come tired.
And I came.

Now I’m choosing balance over burnout.
I'm building altars, not idols.
Making room for mercy.
Saying "no" with no guilt attached.
Protecting my peace like it’s purpose too.

Because peace is productive.
And rest is rebellion
in a world that profits off your exhaustion.
So I’m done selling my soul
for schedules that don’t see me.

Let this be your permission slip:
To breathe.
To break.
To be held instead of holding everything.
You ain't God,
and He ain’t asking you to be.

Balance ain’t soft.
It’s sacred.
It’s choosing Presence over pressure.
It’s laying down burdens
and picking up better.

So yeah...
I’m choosing balance over burnout.
And that choice?
That's holy.
That’s warfare.
That’s worship.

🖋️ Dee.

"BALANCE OVER BURNOUT"

I was raised an Overdrive,
Sleep when you're dead, they said.
So I ran on fumes,
called it favor,
but it was fatigue dressed in Sunday's best.

I wore “busy” like a badge,
thinking hustle made me holy.
But even Jesus rested.
Even God paused.
Day 7, He sat back, called it good
and didn’t apologize for the stillness

Now I’m choosing balance over burnout.
Not weakness, wisdom.
Not quitting, quiet strength.
Not slacking, Sabbath.
Because even lions lie down before they roar again.

I’ve poured from empty,
smiled while sinking,
shouted praise with a clenched jaw,
calling it purpose
while my peace was on life support.

Truth is...
you can serve and still be starving.
You can win in public
and lose your soul backstage.

I was addicted to applause
but allergic to presence.
Could quote verses,
but forgot how to breathe.

Then I found Matthew 11:28
sitting soft in red letters:
"Come to me, all who are weary..."
Not come perfect.
Not come polished.
Just come tired.
And I came.

Now I’m choosing balance over burnout.
I'm building altars, not idols.
Making room for mercy.
Saying "no" with no guilt attached.
Protecting my peace like it’s purpose too.

Because peace is productive.
And rest is rebellion
in a world that profits off your exhaustion.
So I’m done selling my soul
for schedules that don’t see me.

Let this be your permission slip:
To breathe.
To break.
To be held instead of holding everything.
You ain't God,
and He ain’t asking you to be.

Balance ain’t soft.
It’s sacred.
It’s choosing Presence over pressure.
It’s laying down burdens
and picking up better.

So yeah...
I’m choosing balance over burnout.
And that choice?
That's holy.
That’s warfare.
That’s worship.

🖋️ Dee.

06/05/2025

"BEAUTIFUL CONTRADICTION(A Sanctified Chaos)"

I’m a walking paradox
sweet spirit, sharp tongue.
Soft like Psalms,
but I’ve cussed in my prayers
and cried on gospel tracks
when I couldn’t say His name.

I crave touch like fire,
but pull away when it gets too warm.
Want love like Eden,
but fear the fall.

I say, “I trust You, Lord,”
then make backup plans.
Say, “Your will be done,”
but flinch when He says wait.
I know the Scriptures
still wrestle with my shadow.
Still kiss the cross
with stained hands.

Some days, I glow with faith.
Other days, I ghost God.
Hide behind habits.
Talk spiritual,
but feel split in spirit.

Still…
He calls me Beloved.
Not “perfect.”
Not “put-together.”
Just, mine.

I’ve asked for peace,
then ran from stillness.
Begged for godly love,
but didn’t believe I could hold it
without shattering it.

I love deep
so deep it scares me.
But even the ocean
was made by His voice.
So maybe this depth?
Ain’t a curse.
It’s divine.

I dance between “use me, Lord”
and “I don’t feel worthy.”
Between “bless me”
and “don’t look too close.”
Between worship hands raised
and body bent under shame.

But grace?
It catches me every time.
Doesn’t flinch at my contradictions.
Doesn’t skip over my stumbles.
It rewrites my name
where fear tried to tattoo failure.

So don’t get it twisted
this chaos?
It’s not confusion.
It’s construction.
I’m not broken, I’m becoming.
Shaped by mercy,
healed in pieces.

I may long for what I fear.
I may push away what’s pure.
But I’m still choosing
peace,
presence,
a God who holds all my parts
and still says,
“This is good.”

I’m not asking for perfection.
I’m asking for holy love
that can hold me honest.
To be seen in the storm
and kissed by the calm.
Because even in the tension
between desire and discipline,
I know this:

He’s not done with me yet.
And I am still…
a beautiful contradiction,
held together by grace.

🖋️ Dee.

02/05/2025

"FOR ME"

I felt running away, would save me,
or maybe I just wanted it to.
But somewhere in the giving,
I lost pieces of myself
left them tangled in someone else’s hands,
in someone else’s Mistakes,

It wasn’t the first time,
but it was the one that broke me open,
the one that made me question
if I’d ever know what it meant
to be whole on my own.
To love myself
without needing someone else
to fill the gaps.

I told myself it was time to heal,
but healing isn’t as simple as patching up wounds
it’s learning to stand on your own,
to be your own person
before anyone else can step into your life.
And so I began to pull away,
to break free from the weight
of needing to be seen in a way
that didn’t serve me anymore.

I realized I was chasing something
that never fit,
something that made me forget
who I really was,
what I was truly meant for.
I needed more than a love that took
and left me empty.

And then, in the quiet of the nights,
when the noise of the world finally dimmed,
I felt something shift.
A deeper call.
Not from anyone else,
but from something far greater
a pull toward a truth that had always been there
but I hadn’t been ready to hear.

I want to live right.
Not just for others,
not just for the world’s approval,
but for me.
For the person I’m becoming,
for the One who knew me before I knew myself.

There’s freedom in the surrender.
Freedom in letting go of what I thought
I needed to hold onto.
Freedom in trusting that the love I seek
has always been right here
in the hands that made me,
in the heart that sees me,
in the grace that whispers to me
that I’m enough.

So now, I walk a new path.
Not defined by who I loved,
but by who I am.
And every step forward
is one I take for me.
For the me I’ve been hiding,
for the me that’s finally ready
to stand tall in the love
that was always meant to be.

🖋️ Dee.

02/05/2025

"SILENT SPOTLIGHT"

When you shine without trying,
be mindful.
That effortless glow,
so natural,
so unfiltered
it’s not just admired,
it’s also envied.

Because light attracts all kinds
some are drawn to it with joy,
others with a quiet jealousy,
waiting for you to flicker,
to dim.
And here’s the thing:
You never asked for the attention.
You were just living,
being yourself,
heart open,
spirit unguarded,
presence undeniable.

So protect your peace.
Guard your energy.
You can be kind,
but don’t be naive.
When you carry a light this rare,
you’ll find others won’t know what to do with it.
They’ll try to shade it
because they can’t find their own.

But don’t shrink.
Let them watch.
Let them whisper.
Let them wonder
why you shine the way you do.

Keep glowing anyway.

🖋️ Dee.

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