The Beginning: When Faith Felt Like a Cage

I grew up in Catholic schools, surrounded by faith, tradition, and rules. I knew all the prayers. I knew all the stories. I knew what a “good Christian woman” was supposed to be.

And I felt suffocated by it.

As a young woman trying to find my voice, my identity, my power—faith felt like a cage, not freedom. It felt like a checklist I could never complete. Like no matter how good I was, I’d never be enough.

So I walked away.

I explored paganism, searching for something that felt expansive instead of restrictive. Something that made space for all of me—my questions, my fire, my femininity, my mess.

And honestly? It felt like relief.

The Return: Finding God on My Own Terms

But something kept pulling me back.

Not to religion. Not to performance. Not to the version of faith that made me feel small.

To God Himself.

When I finally came back—on my own terms, through my own study, with my own questions—I discovered something I’d never been taught:

God’s love wasn’t conditional. It wasn’t performance-based. It wasn’t about being perfect.

It was about being seen. Being known. Being loved exactly as I was.

I thought I’d found my happy ending.

I hadn’t.

The Heartbreak: When “Biblical” Was Just Performance

Then came the man who talked about God, leadership, and biblical manhood with such conviction that I believed him.

He said all the right things. Quoted all the right verses. Looked like everything I’d prayed for.

But he couldn’t live up to any of it.

When it fell apart, I didn’t just lose him. I almost lost everything.

My faith. My peace. My sense of self-worth. My ability to trust—God, men, myself, anyone.

I felt like damaged goods. Too broken. Too complicated. Too much.

And in the middle of that pain, crying on my bathroom floor at 2am, I whispered: “God, if You’re real, I need You to meet me here. Because I have nothing left.”

The Healing: When Mary Magdalene Saved My Faith

That’s when I met Mary Magdalene differently than I ever had before.

Not the sanitized Sunday school version. The real Mary.

The woman who had seven demons cast out of her. The one everyone dismissed as “too broken” for redemption. The one society wrote off completely.

But Jesus didn’t write her off.

He healed her. He loved her. He chose her to be the first person to witness His resurrection—the most important message in all of Christianity.

If God could meet Mary in her mess and make her a messenger of hope…

He could do the same for me.

So I kept reading. And I kept finding them—women like me. Women like you.

The Women Who Became My Teachers

Esther, who was terrified but stepped forward anyway.

Ruth, who chose faith when everything was lost.

Hannah, who prayed through tears until God answered.

Deborah, who led when no one expected her to.

The Samaritan Woman, who met Jesus at her lowest and became a missionary.

The Woman with the Alabaster Jar, who poured out love without apology.

Rahab, whose past didn’t disqualify her from purpose.

These women weren’t perfect. They weren’t “good Christian women” by religious standards. They were messy, broken, complicated, and powerful.

Just like us.

Their stories didn’t just inspire me. They healed me.

Why “Proverbs 31 Main Character”?

The Proverbs 31 woman has been used to shame women for generations. To make us feel like we’re never doing enough, never being enough.

But that’s not who she is.

She’s strong AND soft. Faithful AND fierce. She provides AND she leads. She’s a businesswoman, a mother, a wife, a leader—and she laughs at the days to come.

She’s not perfect. She’s whole.

You’re the main character of your story. Not the supporting role. Not the background character waiting for someone to save you.

The main character.

And when you step into that truth—rooted in faith, confident in your worth, glowing with purpose—everything changes.