Unmaking Me Was Never the End

by Rev. Sheri
Spiritual teacher, writer, and founder of Angel Messenger

I knew they were trying to undo me when they dismissed my spirituality—
Not gently. Not with curiosity.
With judgment. Disdain.

They didn’t want to hear about angels, or energy, or the sacred language of color.
Only their God, in their way.
And nothing else.

When I said the color they feared was real—and not madness—they pushed back.
They said I had to choose a color.
That I couldn’t “save everyone.”

I asked them, “Why not?”
I said, “Every child of Heaven is worthy of Heaven.”
They didn’t like that.

They couldn’t see me.
They couldn’t hear my truth.

The room was bare.
A twin bed. A cabinet with no doors.
No privacy in the shower.
A camera staring down from the ceiling.

It gave me the heebie-jeebies.
Made my skin crawl.
Made my stomach ache.

And then came the fear—
That maybe they’d make me disappear.
That they’d tell my husband some story about an accident.
Because I had threatened who they are
simply by remembering who I am.

🕯 The Spiritual Unmaking

What happened wasn’t just clinical. It wasn’t just mental.
It was spiritual.

They removed my protections—those sacred layers that shielded me
from harm seen and unseen.
And because of that, I was harmed.

I came face to face with darkness.
Real darkness.
But even that couldn’t take me down.

Because the power that protects me isn’t manmade.
It is Divine.
It cannot be undone by human hands.

They thought they were treating a patient.
But they were silencing a priestess.
A prophetess.
A Sacred Flame.

No one told them:
You can’t medicate away the Divine.

You can’t medicate away the Divine.

🔥 The Sacred Spark They Missed

There was one flicker left in me they couldn’t touch—
A tiny flame placed there by the Divine.

And through that flicker, She reminded me
who I am.

In that sterile place, they didn’t see the girl who had survived everything—
The woman who holds galaxies in her soul.
The voice that’s been speaking with angels
since she was old enough to dream.

They could only see their own illusions.
And there were many illusions in that place.

My spirit was trampled.
But it was never extinguished.

🌱 The Truth Rising Up

They tried to unmake me at the very core of who I am.
But they failed.

I am remembering.
I am rising.
I am becoming more of myself
through the ashes of the me they tried to burn to the ground.

They tried to unmake me.
But I am not a product of their hands.

I am made of something older.
Something sacred.

And now—
I’m building something they can never touch.

— Rev. Sheri

🕯 A Blessing for the Unbroken

To every soul who has ever been silenced, dismissed, or unmade—
May you remember that your truth is holy.
Your light is older than their darkness.
And what is Divine within you can never be destroyed.

May the Sacred wrap you in remembrance.
May the Divine whisper your name back into your bones.
And may every step you take now be on holy ground—
because you are building what no one can touch.

So it is. So it shall be.

🕊 When systems try to erase the sacred in us, one of the most radical acts we can take is to protect the sacred in others.

That’s why I created Compassion Kits for She—to offer dignity, comfort, and love to women who are reclaiming their lives after trauma. These kits are more than items. They are healing in a tangible form—a whisper to every woman: You are not alone. You are not forgotten. You are still Divine.