The Power Was ALWAYS Yours

A Story from Grandma Monica’s Mirror

Psst… a new voice is joining us.
Starting today, you might notice a little more sass and soul sprinkled in here—because Grandma Monica just pulled up her rocker. She’s the wiser, grittier version of me who doesn’t hold back. She might pop in now and then with some porch-style truth to keep us honest as we reclaim our dreams.

Now, on to today’s story…

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The Power Was Always Yours: A Story from Grandma Monica’s Mirror

It started with a mirror. Not a dramatic mirror moment—no soul-crushing epiphany or music swelling in the background. Just me, standing at the vanity, foundation bottle in hand, wondering when I started only wearing makeup for “special occasions.”

And that’s when Grandma Monica showed up.

Not in the room, but in my head. The voice that says the quiet part out loud.

“Look at you,” she said, with a half-smile in her tone. “Still waiting for permission.”

Excuse me?

But she wasn’t wrong.

I’d spent years collecting advice like trophies. Church ladies, self-help gurus, productivity podcasts—all telling me how to do life right. How to be soft but strong. How to dream but not too big. How to listen to myself, but only if it fit their formula.

And underneath all of it? A hum. A quiet whisper. A dream I had learned to muffle.

That’s when Grandma Monica leaned in closer, her voice clear as glass:

“Let me save you the trouble, honey. You’re not broken. You’re just buried. And the power? The knowing? The fire? It never left you. You just stopped looking for it in the mirror.”

I exhaled.

Because she was right.

It wasn’t about makeup. Or aging. Or whether or not I was “on the path.” It was about the quiet ache of handing your power to people who never had the right to hold it. About shrinking yourself to fit a mold that was never yours to begin with.

And it hit me: I don’t want to shrink anymore.

So here’s what I know now—and what Grandma Monica would like printed on a bumper sticker:

You don’t have to read another book. You don’t have to take another course. You don’t have to wait for someone to grant you access to your own life.

You are powerful. Right now.

Not later. Not “once you figure it all out.” Now.

You just have to reclaim it. Own it. Live it. Love it.

The power was always yours. And Grandma Monica? She’s just here to hand you the mirror.

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