She Comes From Fire: A Pep Talk for Women in Recovery

You Come From Shieldmaidens and Storm-Bringers

Maybe you weren’t taught this in school. Maybe no one told you where you came from.

So let me remind you:

You come from shieldmaidens who held the line. From women who stood at the edge of the world, holding children in one arm and swords in the other.

You come from the Valkyries — not soft-winged angels, but fierce warriors of Norse mythology who chose who would rise and who would fall in battle. Women of discernment. Power. Will.

You come from Hippolyta — queen of the Amazons, warrior-mother, myth-maker.

From Empress Wu Zetian — the only woman to ever rule China as Emperor, who carved her name into a system designed to forget her.

From thousands of unnamed, unrecorded women — midwives, healers, rebels — whose wisdom built civilizations, whose strength was feared, and whose stories were erased.

But you? You carry them.
Every time you speak your truth.
Every time you choose sobriety over silence.
Every time you walk into a room like you belong there — because you do.

You are part of their legacy.
You are not just healing — you are rising.
You are not just surviving — you are remembering.
You are not just walking away from the past — you are walking into your power.

You Are Not Broken. You Are Becoming.

Recovery isn’t weakness. It’s the fiercest kind of fight. Because it’s not about pretending things didn’t happen — it’s about saying, “They did. And I’m still here.”

It’s not about walking some dainty spiritual path. It’s about crawling, bleeding, praying with your forehead against the bathroom floor and still getting up anyway.

You’ve faced grief, trauma, doubt, and days that should’ve wrecked you.
And what did you do?

You held your ground.
You cried, but you didn’t cave.
You grieved, but you didn’t go back.

You moved to a new place where no one knew your name — and now you chair meetings, you hold space, you carry the message.
You built a circle of women from scratch.
You’ve done more than survive. You’ve become someone others lean on.

You’re not broken. You’re becoming.
You are rebuilding your life from ash and doubt, with a child on your hip and a fire in your chest.

The Quiet Revolution of Refusing to Disappear

Here’s what no one tells you:

Just staying is an act of revolution.
Staying sober.
Staying awake.
Staying present — in a world that begged you to numb out and sit down.

You don’t owe anyone perfection.
You don’t owe anyone performance.
But your presence? That matters.

Just by being here, you are proof that a different kind of woman exists —
One who won’t betray herself for approval.
One who doesn’t need a rescuer.
One who builds her own foundation, even when the earth shakes beneath her.

You lead not by title, but by example.
You are proof that strong doesn’t always look loud — sometimes it just looks like staying, speaking, and softening at the same time.

You Are Not Alone in This Lineage

You might feel alone some days — but you’re walking with all of them.

Every woman who ever chose herself.
Every woman who said “no more.”
Every woman who took her power back, even if her hands were shaking.

You are not the first.
You will not be the last.

Whether you’re holding a child, a community, or just yourself together today — know this:

You are seen.
You are sacred.
You are a legend in motion.

Your daughter — with her wild, radiant hair — will grow up knowing what strength looks like.
Not because you were perfect, but because you kept becoming.

You are not lucky.
You are legendary.

You are seen.
You are sacred.
You are a legend in motion.

And your presence in this little town?
It’s more powerful than you know.