Hi friend. My name is Dr. Kimberly Terry, and I am so grateful you found your way here.

I want to say something to you gently, but honestly:

Please stop taking your seat at tables that were never built to hold you. You are allowed to stop auditioning for belonging.

Some spaces were designed long before you arrived; and not with your safety, your brilliance, or your becoming in mind. This is not a story you're imagining. It is a pattern woven through generations, and it shows up in the words spoken over you, the doors that quietly close, and the rooms that ask you to shrink in order to stay.

And still...you keep showing up. You keep trying to prove, to soften, to sharpen, to translate yourself into something the room might finally welcome. I understand why. That kind of striving often begins as survival. But I want to offer you this truth, tenderly: if a space cannot honor you as you are today, no amount of shaping yourself will change what it was built to do.

If you're ready to explore why fitting in has felt so important (or if you're not even sure where you actually belong), I would be honored to walk with you.

At first, the suffering remained quiet.
Not because it was small, but because there was no space for anything else.

People adapted the only way they could.
They learned to move within chaos, to survive beneath the looming presence of the [racists, elitists, governmental powers, misogynists, sexists, ableists, homophobics, you can fill in your own word here], to wake each day into a world that no longer resembled the one they had known.

You endure.
You adjust.
You keep going.

For a time, that is enough.

​

But silence has limits.

It stretches.
It holds.
And then, it breaks.

The weight becomes too much.
The losses too constant.
The sense of living inside something broken, something beyond repair,

presses in from every side.

Fear settles in.
It becomes part of the air itself.
Death is no longer shocking.
It is expected.

And then, something shifts.

 

What was once carried inward can no longer remain there.

It rises...not suddenly, not in a single moment,
but steadily.

From everywhere at once.
From those who have lost everything.
From those watching the world collapse around them.
From those who no longer recognize the life they are trying to survive in.

It is not organized.
It is not controlled. It is a cry. For relief. For justice.
For intervention, because nothing on earth can repair what has been broken.

Until now, everything has moved in one direction: downward.
From heaven to earth.
From order to distortion.
From boundary to collapse. Now, something moves the other way.

There is no single voice rising above the rest.
No chosen speaker to carry the message.

Only the combined weight of human suffering, unfiltered, undeniable.

And this time, it is heard.

Not by rulers.
Not by those who hold power on earth.
But in heaven.

And that changes everything.

​

Hale, Adrian . The Complete Book of Enoch: 1, 2 & 3 Enoch in Clear Modern English (Ancient Secrets Series) (p. 36). (Function). Kindle Edition.