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Sunday Stories
Becoming The You That You Forgot
by Loni Speaks

This morning, before the emails and the noise, I sat with myself.
No title.
No to-do list.
No expectations.
Just me.
Just breath.
Just truth.
I wrote a question at the top of my journal:
“Who am I becoming… and who did I lose on the way here?”

Because somewhere between life’s demands, the masks we wear, and the roles we’re praised for, we forget the parts of ourselves that once felt undeniable.

The parts that made us bold.
The parts that made us tender.
The parts that made us… us.
Becoming isn’t just forward motion.
It’s excavation.

It’s digging beneath the version of you the world trained you to be,
so you can reclaim the version of you that God intended.
Leadership didn’t teach me this.
Life did.
Grief did.
Mistakes did.
Silence did.
And sitting with myself this morning, I realized something:
We talk a lot about growth, but rarely about returning.
Returning to truth.
Returning to joy.
Returning to balance.
Returning to the girl or woman we abandoned to survive someone else’s storyline.

That’s the real becoming.
Not polishing what’s broken.
Not pretending the cracks don’t exist.
But honoring who you are underneath the fractures.

So today, I’ll ask you what I asked myself:
What part of you is ready to come back home?
What truth have you outgrown your fear enough to face?
Who are you becoming - on purpose?
This is your work.
This is your return.
This is your story.

Sunday Stories | Loni Speaks© 2025
Leadership looks different when the soul leads.


Visit my Substack and Subscribe for Free (yep Free) Link is in the Comments

Yes we are Black. But We Are Not Invisible.

Read today’s Sunday Substack Poem (and of course in your best Maya voice)…

“Sit down now.
School is in session.

And I am not here to make you comfortable.

Let’s drag the elephant
out of the shadows,
call it by its name,
make it look us in the eye.

You say we’ve just awakened.
But truth be told, we never closed our eyes.

Truth be told, we’ve been closest to the Divine since the first breath broke over water.

Closest to the voice that knows how deep this life cuts, how wide this wound stretches.

Two hundred years you took our bodies…”.

click to read the rest of this Sunday’s Soul Filled Reflection.

https://lnkd.in/g92pZ49B