Diary of a Thriving Mum

Why Are We So Quiet About the Battles?

Why is it that we only talk about the good stuff?
The new job—yes.
The promotion—absolutely.
But the sleepless nights, the dozens of applications, the silent rejections that chipped away at our confidence? Not so much.

We talk about the beautiful weddings and blissful anniversaries, but not the silent treatments, the “we need to talk” convos, or the nights you cried in the shower.
We tell our kids we were geniuses at their age—straight A’s, no mistakes, just excellence. Especially us Nigerian parents. 😂 But let’s be real… life has lifed us, and not everything was pretty.

I believe deeply in the power of sharing the ugly. The messy middle. The parts that aren’t Instagram-worthy but are absolutely God-worthy.

In the book of Joshua, after the Israelites crossed the Jordan, God told them to take 12 stones from the middle of the river. Why? As a sign. A testimony. A reminder to future generations of how He brought them through. That’s not just ancient wisdom—it’s a blueprint.

Sharing your story is how someone else finds the courage to keep going. It’s how hope is transferred from heart to heart.

Now listen, when I started sharing my stuff, whew. Some people were like, “Sis, maybe you should pipe down a bit.”
And I won’t lie—it got to me.

I felt ashamed. I mean, who wants to be the girl who had a wedding, a child, and a failed marriage… all in one year? I imagined the whispers, the group chats, the exes giggling and thinking, “Told you so.”

I almost stopped.
But then I thought—hold up, why should I be ashamed?

The battles I’ve fought?
The storms I’ve survived (and the ones I’m still in)?
That’s not failure. That’s a testimony.

And I know, I know, that someone—maybe a woman scrolling in tears, maybe a mom wondering if she’ll ever smile again—is going to hear my story and remember who she is. And who her God is.

My Bible says I overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of my testimony. So why would I be silent? When I speak, I heal. When I share, someone else survives. That’s the power of owning your truth.

As a mother, I refuse to be the parent that paints a fake picture.
I won’t raise my kids to think life is perfect.
Nope. I’ll raise them to know that life can hit hard—but God hits harder.

So expect more of me. More of my real, raw, unfiltered truth.
Expect me to be dangerously loud about my testimony.

Because this world is going to hear it.
They’ll know the battles I fought, the victories I’ve claimed, the tears I cried, and the strength I gained.
God is using my life to break chains and build legacies.
People will see what it looks like to still be kind even when life wasn’t.
They’ll see joy that doesn’t make sense and peace that passes understanding.

What about you?
Will you keep your voice quiet?
Or will you use your story—the WHOLE story—to bring light to your circle, your family, your community… maybe even the world?

I think you should. 💛