This Blog Almost Didn't Happen, Here's Why I Changed My Mind

This Blog Nearly Didn’t Happen — Here’s Why I Changed My Mind

I kept this blog close to my heart for years like a secret dream tucked away. Not because I didn’t think it was worth writing, but because I wasn’t sure if I was up for the assignment… or if the world would even understand it.

Merge that with imposter syndrome and overthinking, and you’ve got a cocktail for paralysis. 

It was never that I didn’t have the words, it was that the weight of my words scared me.

So what changed?

I did.

I came to see that waiting for the ideal time, the ideal clarity, or the ideal confidence was actually just fear dressed up as something else.

People who are navigating pain, purpose, healing, and growth don't need more polished perfection.
They need to hear from others who’ve lived through the messy middle, not the filtered version. The real, the raw, the unadulterated truth.

This blog exists because silence started to feel heavier than the risk of vulnerability.
And because I’ve lived through enough storms to know that if something keeps tugging at your heart, it’s not random. It’s a call.

And this is me answering that call.

Welcome to Nari!

I’m so glad you’re here. There's so much in store. I’ve been building this for years, so you can imagine the weight behind every word.

A little fun fact about the name:
Nari is actually an idea I had back in 2011. A project I convinced a few people to join. The goal was completely different then, but as life would have it, the project never took off. (look out for my article on reflections on past failures and the wisdom it brings)

But the name Nari stuck.

Nari is an evolution of the word Nare, which in Slang or Kikuyu means a lighter or fire.

That’s what Nari is. A light.

“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead, they put it on a stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.”
— Matthew 5:14–15 (NIV)

This is my lampstand.

A Little Backstory

A few years ago, my life fell apart.
And I don’t mean the minor inconveniences or little hiccups of life. I mean a gut-wrenching, no-will-to-live kind of collapse.

Every time I thought I had hit rock bottom, life showed me there were lower levels. And those levels lasted for years.

So when people talk about God’s mercy and grace, I often remain silent, not because I don’t have a testimony, but because mine comes in heavy and leaves rooms quiet. In awe. In stillness. In reverence of the God we serve.

Why I Write

Everything I share on this blog is a blueprint of what I learned in the depths—what I call “the abyss” of life—and how to survive and win the battles in your mind.

You know the ones.

The battles we don’t talk about:
The fears. The pain. The rejection. The trauma. Even the depression.

If You’re Wondering…

• Am I good enough?
  You’re in the right space.
• Healing from your past?
  Welcome. Take a front seat.
• Is fear holding you back?
  Come in.

This is a space for everyone, regardless of race, gender, age, or status. There is something for you here.

So Why Am I Doing This?

I could tell you it’s because I wished I had the insight I have now when I was going through it and this is my way of helping others navigate. And that would be true.

But that’s just the quick version.

The full weight of it is this:
Nari is me saying yes to the call that broke me.

And to bring this full circle, look out for my upcoming video on the Nari socials where I’ll share about answering the call and finding purpose.

If you know me, you know parts of my story. But some things may still surprise you, so buckle up!

Nari is a space that illuminates the parts of our stories we’re too afraid to talk about, yet those are the parts that carry the most weight.

So settle in and breathe.

It’s going to get real, real quick.

If you’ve read this far, leave me a comment:

• What are your expectations?
• Is there content you’re eager to see?
• Any questions or remarks?

I’d love to hear from you.

Thank you for being here.
I wish you love and healing.

See you on my next post!

Shalom,
Maureen.