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Olamina Speaks is a living blog series rooted in sacred witnessing. It’s not just storytelling — it’s seed planting. These entries are not performance. They’re portals.I am telling the truth — not for revenge, but for resonance.This is a sacred reflection on gaslighting, clarity, and emotional exit.<h3>Gaslighting doesn’t always scream.</h3>Sometimes it whispers with a smile.It shows up in carefully worded emails. In a new policy masked as “best practice.” In someone pretending to be confused by a plan.That’s what I lived through. A workplace that praised my brilliance publicly and then quietly tried to clip it. Where clarity was met with control and containment. Where excellence was handled like a threat.<h3>They asked me to reschedule a sacred opportunity.</h3>To come in and move tables.The co-worker said it with an attitude. Clearly disturbed by my boundary. The manger then followed up the next day and said it kindly. But kindness isn't the same as care.I had already communicated clearly. I had offered support, confirmed coverage for the task, made the moves.Still — someone needed to feel in charge. Still — I was asked to contort. Still — &nbsp;they bristled at my boundary, as if my “no” was an act of rebellion instead of self-respect.This wasn’t about chairs. It was about control. About their discomfort with a Black woman who knew her worth. About the quiet offense they took when I refused to shrink on cue.<h3>Gaslighting by another name.</h3>What I’ve come to understand is that gaslighting, in polished spaces, rarely calls itself by name. It wears professionalism. It speaks in indirect tones. It buries its intent beneath “teamwork,” “tone,” and “perception.”But I felt it in my body. In my nervous system. In the tightening of my chest when the boss’s boss positioned herself directly behind me.That moment wasn’t about support. It was surveillance wrapped in strategy. It was control cloaked in collegial presence.And it wasn’t isolated. It echoed in the subtle corrections of my voice, humor, and presence through policy. Even overtly inturrupting me when I was standing at the front of the room—leading a training on increasing permanency outcomes for undervalued youth— there was still an unspoken expectation that I would shrink. Not because I lacked brilliance. But because mine disrupted theirs.They weren’t confused. They were uncomfortable. Because I carried too much clarity in a space that had already decided I was too much.This job was always too small. And they knew it.That’s why they needed me to downplay my knowing— to dim my leadership so their authority could remain intact.Every time I was questioned, micromanaged, translated, or dismissed, a voice inside me whispered, with increasing certainty:You don’t belong here. You never did.<h3>The Emotional Toll They Never Calculate</h3>I was celebrated publicly as an expert on advocating for undervalued youth in systems—asked to present nationally, to lead international webinars, to represent the mission—while internally, they policed my presence, contained my contributions, and made it clear my brilliance was only welcome when it served their image, not their integrity.That’s the trick of it. They don’t break you loudly. They invite you to betray yourself softly.To bend, contort, be grateful, and perform.&nbsp;And when you finally say “no more,” they pretend they never asked.<h3>The Bloom (The Declaration)</h3>I will no longer perform clarity for people committed to confusion. I will no longer explain my excellence to those invested in my erosion. I will no longer shrink for a seat at a table I was born to rebuild.I’m not moving chairs. I’m moving systems. I’m reclaiming my sacred time.<h3>So tell me… </h3>Where in your life are you being asked to dim, delay, or defend your brilliance? And what would it feel like to work in a space that trusts your leadership without question? 🕊 Have you experienced polished gaslighting wrapped in professionalism? 🌱 Have you ever been praised in public and undermined in private?Tell your truth in The Garden → <a data-mce-href="https://bloomdontshrink.com/" href="https://bloomdontshrink.com/" title="request an invitation" target="_blank" rel="noopener">request an invitation</a> Let this be your soft no. Your bold remembering. Your sacred exit.#OlaminaSpeaks #BloomDontShrink #WorkplaceGaslighting #BlackWomenLead #EmotionalLiberation #SacredLeadership #TransmissionInRealTime

When Gaslighting Wears a Smile: The Emotional Cost of Performing in a Place That Pretends to Honor You

A liberation letter from Dr. Adrienne Kennedy, aka SistaRhythm, The Bloom Priestess<h3>The First and Last Word: Erasure</h3>“Good afternoon, I wanted to let you know that Adrienne has submitted her resignation…”&nbsp;That’s how the farewell began. No title. No honor. No recognition of what it took for me to endure that space. Just my first name, as if I didn’t carry a doctorate. As if I hadn’t led with integrity. As if I hadn’t stood at the front of that room teaching the very frameworks their mission depends on.&nbsp;No “Dr. Kennedy.” No reverence. Just Adrienne—as if we were friends. As if I had not earned and defended my name in every room I entered.But here’s the thing: it started this way too.On day one, I introduced myself as Dr. Adrienne Kennedy. But the HR rep walking me around introduced me as Adrienne—without asking, without care. And then another Black woman, older, rooted in survival culture, looked me in the eye and said:“I’m not calling you Dr. Kennedy.” She said it with the kind of audacity that only comfort within oppressive systems can grant. So I knew—I knew exactly what kind of space I had walked into.<h3>Contained, But Never Quiet &nbsp;</h3>From that moment on, I made a decision: You will not have all of me.I stayed behind a closed door—not out of coldness, but to protect my peace. Because showing up every day in a space that refused to see me while I trained staff on permanency for system-impacted Black and Brown youth? It was emotionally expensive.The job was easy. But preserving my spirit? That was the hard part.They thought I was silent. But what they didn’t know was that I was building something sacred:<ul><li>Traveling to New York to network with DJs and discover my sound </li><li>Quietly raising seed funding for Friends of the Children – Columbus, rewriting the future for youth </li><li>Designing the blueprint for Bloom, Don’t Shrink, a liberation movement rooted in rhythm, truth, and revolutionary softness.&nbsp;</li></ul>Because the truth is: I was never meant to fit. And my bloom was never theirs to contain.<h3>This Wasn’t a Resignation. It Was a Release.</h3>What they wrote in that email?"Adrienne has submitted her resignation.”But here’s what they left out:Adrienne resigned. Dr. Kennedy rose. SistaRhythm evolved. The Bloom Priestess broke the seal. And Bloom, Don’t Shrink is in full bloom.I carried what they couldn’t. And now, I lay it down.This was a reclamation. A full-circle severing from a space that never earned the magic I brought.<h3> This Is What Happens When You Stop Asking for Permission&nbsp;</h3>Now, I step into this next chapter fully embodied, fully expressed.All of me gets to show up, shine, and serve.I don’t just bloom—I build the garden. I don’t just teach—I transform. I don’t just leave—I liberate.This is what happens when you stop asking for permission to exist fully. You don’t just bloom. You become the weather. And baby— the forecast is freedom.<h3>&nbsp; 🌺 So tell me…</h3> What have you outgrown, and who do you become when you stop asking for permission to bloom? What came up for you? Share it with us in The Garden. <a data-mce-href="https://bloomdontshrink.com/" href="https://bloomdontshrink.com/" target="_blank">Request an invitation</a>Read: Refuse to be Erased #BloomDontShrink #BlackWomenRest #VisibilityIsPower #SacredWitnessing #CreativeReclamation #EmotionalHealing

They Stripped Me of My Title—On the Way In and On the Way Out

<h3>When You’ve Been Erased One Too Many Times </h3>Recently, a photo was shared—meant to honor my partner and uplift a collective win.But I wasn’t in it.Even though I was there. Even though I contributed. Even though I showed up fully.I had been digitally removed.Maybe it was a mistake. Surely it wasn’t meant to hurt.But it did.It hit a nerve—an ancestral one. A sacred one.And in that ache, something ancient and powerful awakened.<h3>The Pain of Erasure Black Women Know Too Well </h3>For Black women, especially those who live at the intersection of art, spirituality, and leadership—this isn’t new.This is the wound.Whether you're a creative, a healer, a visionary, or someone simply holding space in a world not built to hold you—You’ve likely felt this too:✨ Being left out of the conversation ✨ Getting erased from the credit ✨ Watching your truth be edited out for someone else’s comfortThis kind of creative erasure and emotional invisibility is not only painful—it’s a continuation of generational silencing.And I refuse to let that continue in my lineage.<h3>It’s Not Just a Picture. It’s a Pattern. </h3>That image wasn’t just a photo—it was a mirror. Reflecting every time I’ve been cut out, overlooked, or erased without apology.Because erasure doesn’t always look like harm. Sometimes it sounds like silence. Sometimes it hides in phrases like:“It wasn’t intentional.” “You’re overreacting.” “I didn’t realize.”But our spirits always realize.And here’s the truth I’m claiming: I will no longer shrink to fit into spaces that refuse to honor me.<h3>Choosing Remembrance Over Silence </h3>This isn’t about ego. This is about dignity. This is about sacred self-witnessing.I spoke up—not to start a fire, but because I am the fire.🔥 I am reclaiming the voice I once silenced to make others feel safe. 🔥 I am holding space for the women like me who are done being cropped out. 🔥 I am writing myself back into the story.<h3>For the Ones Who Feel Invisible </h3>If you’ve ever been erased—literally or emotionally—this is your invitation to rise:&nbsp;🌺 You are not too sensitive. &nbsp;🌺 You are not imagining it. &nbsp;🌺 You are sacred. &nbsp;🌺 You are the altar and the offering.And you deserve to be seen—not just in photos, but in presence.<h3>Final Reflection: Your Truth Is the Resistance</h3>&nbsp;I am not here to perform. &nbsp;I am not here for approval. &nbsp;I am here to be witnessed—in full bloom.Because I know what it means to carry sacred fire and still be told I’m not enough.To all the women, especially Black women, who are reclaiming their voice, visibility, and value:We rise.&nbsp;Not louder. &nbsp;But deeper. &nbsp;Not for applause. &nbsp;But for truth.<h3>&nbsp; So Tell Me…</h3>Where in your life have you felt erased—and what part of you is still waiting to be seen, named, and honored?What came up for you? Share it with us in The Garden.Read: True Connections and Healing from Burnout #BloomDontShrink #BlackWomenRest #VisibilityIsPower #SacredWitnessing&nbsp; #CreativeReclamation #EmotionalHealing

I Was Removed From the Picture — And I Refuse to Be Erased

People often ask me about my doctorate.&nbsp; They want to know how I did it, what it took, and what it feels like to achieve the highest academic honor.Because to many, it’s a symbol of brilliance. A finish line.&nbsp; A badge of success.But here’s the truth:&nbsp; It didn’t give me what I was really chasing.It didn’t make me feel safe.&nbsp; It didn’t shield me from burnout or financial instability.&nbsp; It didn’t protect me from being overlooked or disrespected.&nbsp; And it definitely didn’t heal the deep ache I carried inside — the part of me that thought I had to earn my worth by doing more. <h3>When Achievement Isn’t Enough: The Emotional Cost of Over-Functioning</h3>Looking back now, I see it clearly:&nbsp; I pursued my doctorate as a survival strategy.Deep down, I believed that if I achieved something “undeniable,”&nbsp; I would finally be seen.&nbsp; Finally feel secure.&nbsp; Finally be respected.That’s the lie that over-functioning tells us —&nbsp; That if we just do enough, prove enough, achieve enough... we’ll finally be safe.So I earned my doctorate from the University of Southern California — one of the most prestigious universities in the country.&nbsp; I poured in time, labor, and tens of thousands of dollars.&nbsp; Because I believed the myth that letters after my name would equal protection.But I was wrong.Yes, the degree opened a few doors.&nbsp; But it didn’t provide lasting financial freedom.&nbsp; It didn’t prevent the organization I worked for from collapsing.&nbsp; And it didn’t ensure I’d be paid fairly — even now, I have the highest degree on my team and I’m certain other, less credentialed colleagues make more.The title didn’t heal me. It masked my exhaustion.And now, I recognize it for what it was:&nbsp; A high-achieving form of burnout. A beautifully framed act of over-functioning. <h3>What Is Over-Functioning? Signs You Might Be Doing Too Much</h3>Over-functioning isn’t always loud.&nbsp; Sometimes, it looks like degrees, promotions, certifications, and saying “yes” when your soul is screaming “no.”It’s the pressure to outperform in order to feel enough.&nbsp; To carry everything.&nbsp; To be everything.And I had to ask myself:- Why do I believe I must do it all?&nbsp; - Why do I keep pushing for titles when what I truly crave is peace?&nbsp; - What if healing is not another degree... but another layer of healing?<h3>Choosing Healing Over Hustle: What I Want Now</h3>Now, I want something different.I want aligned work that doesn’t leave me depleted.&nbsp; I want my income to feel like joy, not just labor.&nbsp; I want wholeness, not just hustle.I no longer want to survive by over-functioning.I want to bloom from rest, worthiness, and radical softness — not endless proving.And I know it’s possible.&nbsp; Because I’m starting to finally live in it. <h3>If You're a High-Achiever Feeling Exhausted… You're Not Alone</h3>Maybe you have the degrees. Maybe you’re the one people turn to for everything. Maybe you’re brilliant, competent, and reliable — and you’re also silently breaking inside.Let me say this to you with love:You are not broken. You are not behind. You are awakening. This is what it looks like to bloom. Not in a classroom. Not at a conference. But deep in your nervous system. Deep in your soul.You’re allowed to stop over-functioning. You’re allowed to be free.<h3>So Tell Me...</h3>Where in your life might over-achievement be covering a deeper ache? What would it feel like to bloom from rest, wholeness, and softness — instead of performance?SistaRhythm | Bloom Priestess🌺✨🔥📖🌿🌀🕊️

I Have a Doctorate — And I’m Still Healing from Over-Functioning and Burnout

Not every separation comes with noise. Sometimes the greatest acts of self-love and emotional healing happen quietly.No fireworks. No confrontation. No explanation. Just a subtle stepping back. An energy shift. A bloom turning gently toward a different sun.Lately, I've been reflecting on the relationships I released without fanfare. No harsh words, no dramatic exits. Just... distance. Space. Silence born of self-respect.And what followed was one of the greatest revelations of my healing journey.<h3>When Emotional Distance Becomes Self-Love</h3>When I became less available, something powerful emerged.&nbsp; Some people noticed the absence of what I once provided: the energy, the attention, the constant availability.&nbsp; Few noticed the sacred shift happening in me.Some reached out with questions like:<ul style="list-style-type: circle;" data-mce-style="list-style-type: circle;"><li>"Why aren't you returning my texts?"</li><li>"Why don't I hear from you anymore?"</li><li>"Why don't I have access to you?"</li></ul>But almost none asked, "How is your heart?"And that distinction has been everything. There’s a difference between someone who checks in to reclaim access and someone who checks in to care for your heart.There’s a difference between contact and connection.Between touch and tenderness.Between taking and tending.Through sacred distance, I discovered who was truly invested in my heart-centered growth — and who was simply attached to my energy.<h3>Reflection</h3> This realization wasn’t easy. It was tender. Sad, even.&nbsp; Because of course, I wanted some of those relationships to be deeper, more mutual, more soul-nourishing.&nbsp; But clarity is a gift, even when it stings.And with that clarity, I’m learning not to confuse:<ul style="list-style-type: circle;" data-mce-style="list-style-type: circle;"><li>Proximity with presence</li><li>Familiarity with friendship</li><li>Contact with care</li></ul>I'm choosing — actively, intentionally — to honor the difference.&nbsp; I'm choosing sacred connections rooted in emotional healing. I'm choosing to reserve my sacred softness, my bloom, my essence for relationships that nourish — not just take.If someone can't pause to ask, "How is your heart?" — they may not have the tenderness required to walk with me into my next season.And that's okay.Not everyone can walk in the garden I'm growing.&nbsp; Some seasons are meant to be sacredly solo.<h3>Affirmations:</h3>I choose heart-centered relationships.I choose peace over performance.I choose blooming forward, even when it means leaving behind what no longer nourishes my spirit. 🌿May we be surrounded by those who tend to our gardens, not just harvest from them.🌿May we learn to honor the difference without guilt, only gratitude. 🌺I am not shrinking.🌺I am blooming louder, softer, and freer than ever. #TheGardenGrows #SacredSoftness #BloomingForward<h3>So Tell Me...</h3>Who in your life has shown up for your heart — not just your presence?What new boundaries or blessings is your soul asking for in this season? SistaRhythm | Bloom Priestess🌺✨🔥📖🌿🌀🕊️

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When Gaslighting Wears a Smile: The Emotional Cost of Per...

They Stripped Me of My Title—On the Way In and On the Way...

I Was Removed From the Picture — And I Refuse to Be Erased

I Have a Doctorate — And I’m Still Healing from Over-Func...

When Distance Reveals True Connections: Choosing Heart-Ce...