There is something about The Preacher’s Wife that hits different when you watch it as a grown woman who has lived a little.

Not the music, although Whitney could lift a whole city block with one note.
Not the nostalgia.
Not the holiday softness.

It’s the moment you see a woman who is exhausted by being everything to everyone.

A woman who is steady, loyal, responsible, patient, stretched.
A woman who keeps the whole ecosystem moving while carrying silent pieces of herself in her pocket, the ones she plans to return to when life finally gives her a break.

And then, slowly, she begins to come back to herself.

Not in a dramatic scene.
Not in a cinematic transformation.
But in the quiet ways.
The tender spaces.
The small decisions that whisper,
Even I deserve joy.

That is the part that stops me in my tracks every time.

Because so many of us have mastered survival.
We know how to hold the line.
We know how to push through when the tank is empty.
We know how to carry the weight without letting anyone see our hands shake.

But returning to yourself requires a different kind of strength.
A softer one.
A braver one.
A self-honoring one.

This season, I think that’s the invitation.
To remember the parts of us that dimmed because survival asked too much.
To honor the woman you’ve become, not the one circumstances forced you to be.
To find joy in small rituals and clarity in quiet corners.
To tell the truth about what you want, what you feel, and what you will no longer carry.

So if you’re reading this with the weight of the year settled into your shoulders, hear me.

You don’t need a miracle to return to yourself.
You just need one honest moment.
One deep breath.
One decision that reminds your spirit that you matter too.

This season, choose the version of you
who is ready to come home.

— Monica ✨