In an interview for a private tutoring position, the conversation quickly turned personal. Connecting with an interviewer on a deeper level can be refreshing, but why does the sound of my voice seem to carry the weight of trauma? As a former CEO, I never envisioned needing to work for someone else. My recent criminal background didn’t initially faze me—I assumed I could always return to stripping if I needed to.

But soon, I found myself detached from that world entirely. The mere thought of going back filled me with overwhelming anxiety. My brief return to that environment brought intense discomfort, as if the atmosphere itself might swallow me whole, driven by a desperation I had never felt before. Now that I was baptized, I felt different. Baptism wasn’t just being submerged in water; it symbolized a life change, a tangible bond with Jesus. It felt like being handcuffed to Him, as if He were with me in a way more present and profound than ever before. Dragging myself back to that world felt like drinking alcohol in church—out of place and jarring. The weight of that decision pressed on me, a reminder that I wasn’t meant to be there.

Being a mother adds a layer of urgency to everything, especially when your own childhood was marked by “lack.” I was determined that my daughter would never face the same void. With this in mind, I leaned into the three degrees God had blessed me with. Yet, each time I heard, “As soon as your background check clears, we can give you a start date,” I thought, Well, I’m not getting that job. The anticipation of rejection grew sharper with each interview. I realized that by even considering a return to stripping, I was trying to take back power from God, communicating a lack of trust in Him, driven by that gnawing desperation.

Today felt different. For the past five days, I had been falling asleep to The Secret, a film I had only watched once before this week. It reminded me that if you don’t train your mind, life will train it for you. I believed that my renewed faith, handing my power back to God, and training my mind with the principles of manifestation had set the stage for today’s change.

I walked into another interview that seemed perfect—aligned with my skills and offering the work-life balance I craved for my daughter and me. Yet, I braced myself as those familiar words resurfaced. It was “explaining time” again. Unlike the speeches where I use my story as a testament to strength and purpose, job interviews required a different approach. Despite knowing that my criminal background might cost me another job, the potential rejection never became less daunting.

But today was different. This time, my story didn’t deter the interviewer. Instead, I was hired on the spot. What had changed?

The night before, sleep eluded me as I reflected on how this year had been unlike any other. I had started a 365-day Bible plan using an app. Some days, I avoided opening it—not out of forgetfulness, but out of guilt and the fear that God was angry with me. Yet, I pressed on, replaying those missed days and trying to stay on track. My journey with the church began to take shape, marked by experiences deep enough to fill a book.

During the interview, as I recounted the story behind my criminal record, the interviewer didn’t hear failure; they heard trauma, resilience, and strength—the very elements I aim to convey in my speeches. Ironically, those weren’t the selling points I intended to use in this setting, but they became the bridge that connected us.

Previous interviews left me feeling like my criminal background overshadowed my education, my degrees, my accolades, and my certifications. I felt as small as I did in court, minimized to being just a “stripper” despite being an honor student. Today, however, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

The interview evolved into what felt like a soul consultation. The interviewer, it turned out, not only worked in Human Resources but also practiced shamanic healing and breaking generational curses. I couldn’t help but question, Is this divine intervention or just another false prophet?

From interviews to soul consultations, today was a reminder that God is steadfast and true. If doubt creeps in, maybe it isn’t God at all. As I draw closer to Him, I continue to seek clarity, knowing that this path is more than just a series of interviews; it’s a journey of faith, resilience, and rediscovery.

Dear God, 

Please make everything clear for me; while most think I’m highly intelligent. You God know where I need the most guidance and growth. In Jesus name, 

Amen