Updated: Jan 22
The caterpillar symbolizes the cusp of transition and change. Until that "change" takes place, it is exposed to the damages presented by nature, what I would refer to as the world. I had the heart of a butterfly but I had no knowledge of my becoming. I was a caterpillar, lost, trying to find my lil oh' way through this enormous forest called life.
I'm running for my life down this dark and cold street, screaming help! as people slowly drive by and gaze at me before driving off. My mind was so frantic and overwhelmed , I could feel my heart pounding through my ears as I look back and see them racing after me. I didn't care about anything to the point where I threw my purse off my shoulder, giving me more leverage to just get away. I couldn't trust anyone. I needed the Lord to deliver me from what I naively got myself into. They jumped out of the charger and a man , a grown a** man who had the figure of a boxer in training , hit me and dragged me to the car while the other man was trying to lock me in. That man was my boss at the time, and the other was my co worker. I tried crawling out of the window but the co worker was rolling it up enough to where I was stuck and all I could do was pray "Jesus please save me!". my pants were down and behind exposed from him trying to pull me back in. I could feel him trying to violate me as I kept kicking him to get off of me. At this time, my other co worker from the shop came and held my face while I was still stuck in this window, looking me in my eyes saying "Breezi it's me, its me". I didn't trust her. Like I said, I couldn't trust anyone. I was crying and helpless but then a light appeared. That light was coming from an approaching police car. The officer flashed his flashlight in my face and I said "please ! just get me away from them!". That was my first time sitting in the back of a police car. I stared out the window as my boss looked back at me , with this evil grin on his face. The officer spoke to them and separately spoke to me as well. I admitted to consuming a weed brownie they offered but elaborated on what led up to this point. he confirmed that an ambulance will be here soon. I sat in that cold hard backseat , in a trance repeating the same phrase " I rebuke the devil in the name of Jesus". I could not stop myself from saying this. That was the only way I felt protected.
May 8th , 2014 on a Thursday is when I was saved. I was 21 at the time, working at a tattoo shop in Houston , TX. How did I get here? On the outside looking in, I was a college dropout who got caught up in the fast lifestyle that the versatile city offered. In reality, I was the only child from Austin, TX raised by a single mother who did not play when it came to getting good grades and staying on top of my behind about everythinggg. She had me at a young age and wanted better for me; not to make the same mistakes she made. I was on a short, I mean short short leash. Majority of my time was spent in my room, sketching, coloring and writing down my inner thoughts. Every other weekend, going to my dad's house became a little more exciting to look forward to because he was more lenient. Other than that, the only joy I had was attending art class at school daily. I was becoming a teenager that wanted to do what my friends were doing but I was very limited. It became overbearing and I slowly grew to resent her. Eventually, I ended up moving with my dad. After grade school, I attended SHSU but wasn't fulfilled because I felt distracted being isolated from everything. Who would have known me trying to move back in city would just distract me more. TSU didn't have a Bachelors of Fine Arts so I settled, looking into community colleges. My father was a truck driver and never really at home. So majority of the time I was on my own, trying to figure out the basics and walkthroughs of adolescent-hood alone which became frustrating. My high school sweetheart eventually broke up with me and I stopped trying to apply for colleges. I gradually stopped going to church and calling my grandma on Sundays. I was working back at my first job, Chili's, and finding my fun at the shop which was THE spot . The shop was a tattoo shop on the southwest of Houston. I was first introduced to this stomping ground in 12th grade when everyone , if anyone from Elsik High , knew that this shop could hook you up with $20 Tatts, good laughs, and off the wall conversations. it was lowkey the trap. I loved it. I loved it because it was feeding my rebellious side. A side I didn't discover until I starting rippin' and runnin' the streets of Houston , something I was foreign to back home in Austin. I always designed my own tattoos and had my homeboy at the shop tatt it on me. Getting tatted was therapy for me at that time. I became more intrigued with the craft and wanted to try it out myself. If I could do it with some colored pencils, hell why not try it with a tattoo gun. After my shifts at work , I would drive 30 min. everyday just to get some lessons from my homeboy and the rest of the guys working there. It all started by practicing on oranges. Then I attempted practicing on myself with the first self made tattoo on my hand that read my alias signature "Breezijayy". Thats all it took for me to start getting ideas to just quit my job and start tattooing. Thats just what I did too, proudly put in my two weeks and started forcing my feminine existence into a male dominant territory. I was aware of the upscale sister shop in Katy, TX that the boys would compare their work to, talk down on, or have a friendly rivalry with but never visited until later. I was too busy trying to live up to the title that I claimed myself to be as "The First Lady" of the southwest shop. I was the only female surrounded by my brothers, who I considered then. They would clown on me for my lack of skill and waited until the customer left to show me what I could've improved on. The owner wouldn't even let me touch a walk in yet so I was practicing majority on friends and word of mouth. I admit my work was trash at first, my linework was improving but the shading was horrendous. At the young age of 19 compared to my much older counterparts, I gained a hustle mentality from my surroundings so I wasn't looking to get better just to make money. I was influenced by how the boys operated with their clientele, which of course was majority women , so they'd pull that playa card to keep them coming back. I picked up on game and started flirting with the guys who would come in just to make sure the tip was good. Weed was being sold in the back from the neighborhood dope boy , strippers came in to get their butt cheeks tatted daily; it was even a common location where pimps made their women drop off their money... chile I seen it all working there. Eventually, I started gaining a good flow of clientele but the grind mode became tiring and I wanted to progress past the quick lick of a mediocre tattoo for change exchange. I was always accustomed to drawing but I started playing with paint while working there to feed my inspiration. I painted on the walls and did my first canvas piece of lil snupe which intrigued me to keep progressing in the medium. I didn't think it would bring forth the blessings that I have today, I just wanted to try something new and grow as an artist, at least as a tattoo artist at the time. I started studying the other tattoo artists from the sister shop in Katy. Everyone knew their work was better but they charged more for it. Thats the kind of influence I wanted to be surrounded by and the kind of money I needed to keep the lights on, so I thought.
I remember visiting the sister shop for the first time, and it was a total different vibe.
It wasn't the trap atmosphere that I was used to. The walls were free of signatures, the floors were clean , the bed tables were in pristine condition unlike the ripped and tore up chairs we had , and everyone's station looked like a candy store; neatly organized with every ink color you could think of. Southwest had "tattoo guns" that rattled and buzzed so loud, it would make the most toughest guy in the chair jump. Katy had tattoo machines that barely purred and swept the skin 10x smoother. I was in heaven, which really was a hidden cave in hell. The people that hung there were eclectic. Cool kids from the suburban block. It was a whole upgrade from the hood shop. I wanted to be apart of the wave so bad so I kept coming back to sit under them and take back what I've learned. Sometimes I would sit in on conversations they would have about God not being real and how we are all gods but I didn't pay it no mind, I was just there trying to learn and get better at the craft of tattooing. I didn't pay the triple 6 skull that was posted up on one of the artist's stations no mind, nor the ritual pentagram circle that was etched in the concrete floor by the back door any mind either. It went over my head...I was that naive. Eventually, another female tattoo artist moved into our shop and things started to feel more divided. I didn't feel like the First Lady anymore , the lil sister that the boys took under their wing. Me and the owner started butting heads, going back and forth over petty stuff like who needs to get trash bags for the shop, which I always kept clean with a womanly touch so I felt like he was just trippin', trying to find a reason to let me go. Due to that ordeal and shortly there after, my mouth got me fired. I went crawling to the sister shop like a lost puppy.
*starts praying over my lunch. "Don't do that disrespectful sh*t in my shop!" - My boss scoffed at me as I looked puzzled back at him. I knew him back in high school when he originally opened the first shop on the southwest side. He also did one of my first tattoos and seemed pretty down to earth back then. I never thought I'd be in this position working for him, and even then I wasn't tattooing....I wasn't "allowed" to until he said I was ready. So I made my money by working at home and going back to SHSU to tattoo the college kids. I was trying to prove that I can be a tattoo artist and have my own station in the shop rather than being the shop's pet and errand assistant . They had me doing absurd tasks just to see what I can withstand. It was a sense of hazing and as much as I wanted to break under pressure, I had to prove to them that I was equipped for this. Yet evidently, I really wasn't equipped for this. I still wasn't on good terms with my mom, my dad was still on the road and away from home, I really didn't fool with family or friends like that on a basis, the boys started actin' funny ever since I left the shop so this.... this is what I was clinging to as family now. There were 4 types of individuals that I worked with. The boss. The ring leader. He was African and took pride in his background so I never second questioned his beliefs on Egyptian studies, ancestral practices or his love for New Age spirituality. There will be a lot more to learn about him later. Then there was the middle aged Rockstar that spent numerous years in jail for a track record of grand theft auto. He went in young, and got out in his late 30's but still had the mind of a teenage boy. He was a stocky black man with thumb sized gauges in his ears, a curly mohawk stood on his graffitied scalp while more tatts and piercings decorated his face. He recklessly drove a black charger and cursed like a seasoned sailor. He'd call you "b*tchhh" in a minute. The kind of pitch you hear when your girlfriend would tell you some juicy gossip but he swore to have had a list of females blowin' up his phone and how he was going to knock somethin' down that night. He had a daughter that his baby mama would refuse to let him ever see and eventually they escaped from him out of state. I seen why. Lastly, there were two gay girls with amazing tattooing skills and techniques. One was more rough around the edges who was the OG female of the crew since day one. The boss loved her like his own. The other was what they would consider a "stem" who was fairly a new girl that worked there just like me but she'd been in the game longer so she topped me by a couple of years. I admired both their work ethic. I gravitated towards OG because she was praised by everyone. Her work spoke for itself. Her grey wash was smooth like butter and her font game was crazy. I wanted to be cold just like that. She seemed genuine and we gained a unspoken bond, like a mentor and student. I loved having girl talk with her girlfriend every time she stopped by the shop and we would all hang out and go to the clubs outside of work so I considered them good friends. I always deemed myself as strictly , well you know, but OG had the appeal to make anyone want to flirt back with her. We'd joke around but I could never see myself playing for that team. The new girl was a straight up conspiracy theorist. She would argue against anything that our boss would present to us regarding spirituality and here I was just listening and taking it all in. It slowly tugged on my curiosity to know WHY he was so opposed to what I knew growing up as a Christian. She didn't believe in "Jesus" but she believed in "Emannuel" which means "God with us" in Hebrew listed in the Bible. She stood her ground against his antics and politic probing. Rockstar would even chime in and blasphemy God's name , letting it be known that he is a proud atheist while OG minded her business with her headphones on. She never engaged because she was used to their outbursts; she was always in her own world. They were just testing us to see how strong or weak-minded our response would be. We were his guinea pigs for his ultimate plan.
"What is this blue Magick Book?" I asked the boss as I skimmed through the pages and read the triple 6 repeatedly through each paragraph. I always knew that this set of numbers was viewed as evil, as the mark of the beast but he convinced me that THAT is what society wants you to believe. "It represents the 6 electrons, protons, and neutrons... the number of Man" he said confidently. He shared with me commentaries speaking on the false documents of the bible and how it was forced on us as slaves. He instilled in me that good and evil was just an ego that we as humans battle with and we needed to acknowledge ourselves as the gods and goddesses we are. 3 months later, I began to believe it all. Spending 8+ hours everyday in the same environment, you start to become a host of it, me being the prime example. He had a peculiar personality about him. He could be very calm then just enrage, yelling over the most minute things. He was into playing with Asian double edged swords and training at boxing sessions. He meditated and sipped his favorite teas. He rubbed on energy rocks that recharged vibrations from the moon and insisted we all keep one on us. One time he randomly bit me , leaving painful indentions on my arm and another time he decided to playfully shift my gears while I was driving, eventually messing up my transmission. For no reason. Im not sure why I stuck around for so long but I felt like I had something to prove enduring it all. It was like a love-hate relationship that I had towards him because I tried to focus on the potential good he had , or maybe it was because he finally allowed me to start tattooing selective customers; like small images and fonts he thought I could handle. Because I was under his brand name, I had to delete all my previous trash work from the other shop off social media then when I was decent enough, I could only post certain work that he approved. So In my free time, to build my local audience, I started painting more and noticed the interest from people online wanting to purchase the work I shared. They would come in to pick up a piece I created and it moved me to start pursuing it more. The boss sat back and observed the spark.
Rockstar had a traffic of suburban youngsters, scandalous women, and conniving men come in to get his supply of Mollies from the back of the shop. It reminded me of the southwest but more exclusive. It would be the same pill poppin' people posted up outside, sitting on the hood of cars and choppin' it up about nothing. I was right along with them, when I had nothing else to do. There was a church next door to us in the shopping center and they would clown on the shop for being next to the contradictory. We literally shared the same wall and could hear the shouting of service on Sundays. The boss and Rockstar couldn't stand it. I was "lost in the sauce" as today's generation would say at this point. The shop was consistent with the same routine. If anyone got bored and it was slow that day, I was the one to get a free tattoo from them of my choice. I felt like I was one of them now...now my gullible behind was over here tatted up, feeling' myself, and chiming in on the ungodly outbursts of disrespect; sounding like the annoying sidekick cartoon that doesn't know any better. "F*ck God! I'm a god!" . Me being a whole clown..."yea, F*ck God?..yea! I'm a goddess!". I seldomly texted my mom just to check on her but one remark I said gave her a big red flag. I txted her how I'm doing in the shop and tried to convince her too with what I've learned, wrapping it all up with "God's not real and slaves came in on a ship named 'Jesus'". She was worried and txted back, which I couldn't verbatimly remember but the words that stuck out were "Baby you are wrong, you are surrounded by the anti-Christ!" and proceeded with this longwinded prayer that I ignored. I was big on smoking weed in college but fell off of it because I felt like it was interfering with my work performance. It was just something about that pill that everyone one loved that I eventually wanted to try. This was the turning point. I asked Rockstar to let me try one and boyyy when I tell you that thang sent me skyrocketing. That was the first and last time I tried it. My focus and attention to detail was on 10. I created a similar tattoo of RiRis Egyptian chest piece on someone while under the influence and the shop was very impressed. They never get impressed with anything that I did. I was impressed my dang self because that was the smoothest grey wash and perfected line piece I completed on skin. I went home that night feeling accomplished. The next day I get there and the lights are off but there are candles lit , glowing from my station. Rockstar is stationed next to me and I asked "what in the hell is this?" while walking towards the set up. He said "Its a Rebirth, you passed the first test" . I'm like " what test? and what is this red sh*t all over my tool box?" . 'B*tch from the tattoo you did yesterday and that's chicken blood". I thought It was all a joke as I playfully cussed him out for messing up my area, turned on the lights and started cleaning it up. I'm not sure if it was supposed to rain that day but I couldn't help but notice the dark clouds pass through that specific region and create such a disturbing storm shortly after blowing out those candles. That storm didn't even last for more than 10 minutes but it left an eery feeling in my spirit, a spirit that I didn't even know was there.
Certain moments just didn't click with me and I couldn't put a finger on it. The scales were definitely plastered on my eyes, blinding me from my reality. "Stop calling me by my name, I will only answer to Lucifer" the boss stated. He switched it up and starting claiming that he believes in a god but not the God that everyone else serves. When I would ask him a question he wouldn't answer unless I did exactly what he told me to call him. Throughout the day, I was being difficult and prying on if he would answer to anything I said but he blatantly ignored me. "Ok whatever, 'Lucifer', there you go." I blurted out , annoyed. He said "Ok cool, thats 1. you have to say it 5 more times." and carried on with conversation. I didn't know what he was referring to but I never followed up with it. He took me and the new girl out on a movie date and tried to convince us to get a tarot card reading afterwards. She was down for it but I said I didn't get into stuff like that, not knowing I was already far worse in deep dung working with them. That didn't sit well with him. He said "you're putting me through a crisis" which didn't make sense to me. We weren't operating or falling for the trap that he was trying to lure us in. Throughout the month, I was becoming more joyful as I spent most of my spare time painting and creating logos for upcoming brands in Houston, yet something still didn't feel right. I would go home, look in the mirror and stare at myself...my face looked lifeless, my body was frail and absent of self care, but it was something in my eyes that pleaded for help. My spirit was tugging with my flesh. I stopped wearing revealing clothes. I stopped cussing and vulgarly gossiping about people. I stopped with the outbursts. Just like OG, I was tuning everyone out and creating my own world of art. I would still call the boss by his requested name just to get it over with. I didn't have time for the games. if I had a question, I just wanted a response. Otherwise , I didn't speak to him unless he spoke first. We were starting on this mural for the shop and mapped out the design for this upcoming show. He had this so called producer come in and film our day to day to create this reality show that was supposed to air, but never did. He was well known and tatted majority of the big names in Houston. The highlight of the show was to capture him tattin' up different people that came in with weight under their belt, and getting some scenes/interviews in with the rest of us. The producer was prepping me for the interview, but tried to flip my words around when the camera start rolling. At that point , I told them I didn't want to be apart of it. There on out, the vibe was weird but not addressed. The boss was becoming unseemly nice towards me. Asking how my day was going wasn't even in his vocabulary but all of a sudden he cared. He would suggest certain techniques to add in my paintings that he learned from taking college course art classes. We even collaborated on a piece together so I let my guard down a little with him.
Towards the end of April, He kept talking about having these weed brownies made from some African 'good witch' lady he knew and we should all try it. I rarely seen him that first week of May but he stopped by to drop off the pan of brownies. He said he was out sick because the brownies did a number on him. He tried them at home and it had him tripped out seeing "people", pacing back and forth all night. He wasn't big on smoking but would put the herb in his tea or try it as an edible so I was a little surprised it had that affect on him. He was persistent that we all try it out. It was all a set up. New girl wasn't there that Thursday. Just me , the boss, OG and Rockstar. OG suggested that she would take a bite if I would. I gave in. Mind you, I hadn't smoked or ingested any weed substance since I left the southwest shop so I limited myself to not even half a square, but I never tried it in a form of a brownie so I was inquisitive in that moment. An hour or two passed by as I sat at my station, drawing my next logo for a client. The aura shifted. My attention was heightened. Hearing Rockstar talk out the side of his neck became more disturbing; about why he preferred bath & body works made it clear that he was the soap dropper in jail. OG was harassing me with distracting sounds and throwing paper at me while I was trying to focus, a pesky characteristic that I never knew she was capable of. The boss's voice became more sly, like a snake speaking with it's tongue. The feeling within, that I didn't know at the time was my spirit , was alarmed. It all just didn't sit right with me, so I took a step outside. I dazed up at the sky, not sure how long I was engulfed in the night's universe looking back at me but I could hear this voice telling me to "go home". It was firm and moving. I went back in and starting packing up my supplies to finish the logo at home but the boss grabbed my keys. I said "give me my keys, I'm about to go home" but he started laughing and stated that I wasn't going anywhere. I tried to grab them from him but he kept skipping around the shop. I attempted again before he stopped me in my tracks when he asked "don't you want to go to sleep?". Time stood still for that second. The scales were falling off like shattering glass. I glanced at the wall that wasn't the mural design we originally thought of, it was an Egyptian Anubis standing in a circle, similar to the pentagram etched on the floor in the back of the shop. "These negroes are trying to do a ritual on me?!"- My mind shouted as my heart fell to my behind. This can't be real. I didn't say anything I just backed off like a deer in headlights and went back outside to look at the sky while tears filled my eyes. God was talking to me. The voice said, "turn around and make your choice". I slowly turned around and looked at the Tattoo shop to my left, as the church had their lights gleaming from inside to my right. How ironic, that a church was open that Thursday night. I stood there dumbfounded. I now understand what they say when " my life flashed before my eyes". All this time. All this time I was blindly playing in the devil's den . I never stepped foot back inside but I opened the door and wailed "what are y'all?" as snot and tears ran down my face. a few moments earlier, some of the same people who hung at the shop came in and was sitting on the couch laughing at me then. The boss busted out laughing too and said "we're a cult!". On my right, a woman came out of the church and was talking to the pastor before leaving which kept getting my attention like an earthly angel trying to snap me out of it but I couldn't move; I could SEE the evil spirits on them and feel the ungodly presence rushing out the door I had open. Rockstar yelled "you look pathetic! just come in, we already got your soul." That last remark snapped me out of my trance and I went running next door.
"What's wrong child?" the pastor questioned me as my teary, swollen eyes tried to find the kindness in his. "I took a weed brownie and they were trying to put me to sleep! They said they're a cult!". He comforted me with his hug as he softly said " the forbidden fruit" while shaking his head in disapproval. He began to pray over me with his hand on my forehead and as the prayer resonated with my spirit and planted that seed, I startled trembling. My body was vigoriously shaking as if my old self was falling off and was being ascended passed what I've ever known. I started screaming "THANK YOU JESUS!, THANK YOU JESUS!" repeatedly. I was in God's presence then. An undefeated presence that's so powerful, impactful and extreme. If you know his presence, you know the first time you experience it, the more your spirit yearns for it to get filled with his love. I knew I wasn't in my own realm , but in his holy place. It was a bright light that surrounded and took over me , as awing as the clouds that rested on heaven's gates. They kept opening the door to the church but wouldn't step foot in, just to see what all the chaos was. The pastor rebuked them away. I kept screaming and praising his name , which probably went on for 20 minutes or so until I came back down to my earthly realm and sat on the pew weeping with my head down. I called my grandmother and shouted "Jesus is real!" while crying out hysterically to her what had just happened. The pastor's wife took my phone to talk to her and calmed me down but after it had all settled in, discombobulation and fear struck me. I needed to get away. After hanging up, she kneeled down to me and gently grabbed my face . "I bring peace to you" She solidly stated twice but I could'nt find it in her eyes to trust her. I did not trust anyone. I got up and ran out the door. I ran for my life down that dark and cold street. I wanted to leave everything behind , while asking God to help me get away from everything.
The police officer assisted me to the ambulance and the paramedics strapped me down as I kept saying "I rebuke the devil in the name of Jesus". I was being tormented. I could feel evil spirits around me trying to shut my mouth and one of the guys sitting in the back with me laughed as he checked my vitals. I didn't care if it looked like I was out of wack , I had lost all common sanity to keep my composure with what I had just experienced. We arrived at the hospital and they submitted me into a room. My aunt and cousin who lived in Houston arrived and said my grandmother and mom are on their way from Austin but I did not break out of my chanting spell of protection to keep the taunting spirits away. My cousin was trying to have a conversation with me but I couldn't depict if her slight smile was a inviting gesture or threat. I didn't trust anyone. In the same breath, the door opened and the boss stood in the hallway with a sly smile saying "She still trippin?". My cousin ordered him to leave before she called the police. He left without another word. I don't know how he found where I was that night but I wasn't in my right mind to care. My mother came through the automatic doors after the nurses checked me out and I ran to her. I embraced her. The woman who birthed me and raised me to know who my first love was, God. She was the only one I found trust in as I became temporarily comforted hugging her. She drove us back home that night, with Houston in my rearview and the soft mumbles of "I rebuke the devil in the name of Jesus" under my breathe. Some time passed before I was back in Houston and started my new leaf of life. I was a Jesus freak , the least to say. My parents and I prayed over my apartment I was still staying in, anointing the doors for covering and protection. I started working at Forever 21 and going to church faithfully. I was a changed young woman. I was happy and healthy. It took me a while to accept my tattoos that I was ashamed of but I learned that it told a story, my story. And ultimately, my joy for painting started to grow, confirming the gift that I had all along. Dreams would frequently haunt me of them but I would just pray about it and keep moving forward. I attended a festival and seen New Girl in passing, who said "OMG Bri ! girl I had to leave that shop!". I said " I know, they were trying to take your soul huh?" in a lighthearted but came off as more sarcastic way. She first looked stunned and said "....yea, how did you know..." ending with a serious face. I gave that half way tucked lipped smile, kept walking and never looked back. A year later, I was in a grocery store and I seen him. As big as Houston was, it was still so small to run into someone like him. A traumatizing feeling took over that I didn't know was still there. The first impulsive action that came to mind was I had to get away. I scurried to the checkout lines, unseen and trying to keep my cool. I could feel that same evil presence creep up behind me. " It's funny I see you here..." his voice quietly slithered by my ear. Here we are, standing in the midst of all these people in public and they don't even have a clue of who this man is or what I went through with him. I didn't respond nor look back at him. That line couldn't move fast enough. I was just praying in my head to remain calm and get out of there. With a couple of circles around the block to make sure I wasn't being followed, I never seen him again after that.
That lost caterpillar wandered through strayed paths, endured predatory attacks, but she survived. I survived; and grateful to finally open up and share the journey God has set out for me. If I didn't know who my first love was, I wouldn't have known what to compare good and evil with. I would've still been dead and lost in this world. But I was chosen to go through this battle, succeed and encourage my fellow peers that spiritual warfare is REAL but there is hope and redemption. There is LIFE . There IS a God. The one and only , Alpha and Omega. I've seenttt it lol, and I've been convinced that his love for me is undying and his words are true. Whatever you may be going through that may be attacking you, know that you were built for greatness and it's just a stepping stone to strengthen you for the next demension God is taking you to. I'm looking forward to revealing more of his blessings throughout these next chapters and I hope that it touches your heart in a way to uplift, connect , and drive you to embrace your own chosen destiny.
Much Love & Blessings,
Until next time.