Dear ,

As i write this, it is Ash Wednesday here in Jamaica. A public holiday. A day when people used to speak about repentance. But what does the day mean to you?

For me, ...

A cross of ashes.

A reminder of our humanity.

Our fragility.

Our becoming.

And only a few days ago, Valentine’s Day passed. For some, it was flowers and affection. For others, it stirred something much older. Because not everyone learned love as safety.

Some learned love as:

• control

• silence

• walking on eggshells

• violence disguised as passion

• pain called “discipline”

• abandonment called “independence”

When love has been wired to danger, the body resists it.

It flinches at kindness.

It questions generosity.

It waits for the turn.

And so when genuine love appears — healthy love — it can feel foreign. Even threatening.

Ash Wednesday reminds us:

We are dust.

We are human.

We are unfinished.

And we are allowed to begin again.

If Valentine’s Day stirred unworthiness in you…

If it whispered, “I am too much.”

Or “I am not enough.”

Pause.

Do not withhold love — from yourself or from the world — because someone once misused it. Those who resist love most fiercely often needed it most consistently.

And here is the deeper truth:

You are not broken because love feels uncomfortable.

Your nervous system adapted to survive.

But survival is not the same as destiny.

Today, instead of asking,

“Why can’t I receive love?”

Ask,

“What would it feel like to receive love slowly?”

Ashes remind us we are human.

Love reminds us we are worthy.

And you — powerful, scarred, healing woman —

are not disqualified from love because you survived pain.

You are being refined by it.

If you were not unworthy — what would this day mean to you?

I'd love to hear your response.

Dr Sandra Hamilton

Cultivating Quiet Confidence and Power