“My Spirit Is Louder Than Their Shade”

There’s a quiet kind of strength in choosing kindness when the world throws cruelty your way. It’s not easy to stay soft when words are sharp. It’s not natural to pray for those who belittle or misunderstand you. But somewhere in that tension—between reaction and restraint—is where faith shows up in its boldest form. 

This blog is my way of processing those moments: when comments cut, when people are unkind, when it feels easier to shut down than to keep shining. I don’t have perfect answers, but I do have hope. And that hope tells me kindness is worth it. That grace is louder than gossip. That faith is strong enough to carry me, even when the words of others try to drag me down.

People talk. Sometimes they whisper behind closed doors, and sometimes they don't even try to hide their words. They’ll label you by your lowest moment. Treat your struggle like a choice. Shrink your worth down to a diagnosis, a mistake, a season they never had to walk through.

But behind your back, it’s different. The smile they flash in front of others? It’s just a mask. And you know it. You feel the weight of their judgment, even when they never say it to your face. They talk about your mistakes—your mental health, your healing journey, your past. As if their clean reputation makes them holy. But here’s the truth: God doesn't grade on gossip. He doesn’t check your worth against their whispers.

The hardest test of hope isn’t in disaster. It’s in disappointment. The kind where people you trusted reveal they were never rooting for you at all. But you don’t have to become bitter to protect yourself. Faith lets you feel hurt and still stay whole. It’s the grace to smile—not because you agree with their dishonesty, but because your joy isn't theirs to damage.

They say it like it’s funny. They say it with a smirk. They say it so quickly, you wonder if you imagined it. But you didn’t. When someone throws slang or coded comments that hit too close to home, it’s not a joke—it’s an insult in disguise. Its slang dressed in shame. It’s sarcasm with sharp edges. It’s mockery that hides behind culture or humor. I’ve learned that the hardest battles aren’t always loud. They’re the quiet ones—when you're hurting and someone tosses a casual comment that digs deep. I have learned in life that when you want people to be happy for you, they are not. Some days I get upset on the smart remarks people make, the comments, the everything, but what is it doing to me just working me up. 

So, what I learned is that one of life’s deepest lessons is learning that you can’t change people—especially their perceptions, their attitudes, or the way they choose to see someone else. We long for clarity, fairness, and understanding. Don’t mistake a measured response for meekness. Restraint is strength. Wisdom is knowing that your future deserves better than a reactive moment. You can be angry. You can be hurt. You can be triggered. And still—you can choose calm.

"The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." Exodus 14:14