I have a question for you. But before I ask it, I should tell you — it’s a trick question. A paradox. A question that can’t be answered with words alone.

The question is: Who are you?

I don’t mean your job title. I don’t mean your personality traits, strengths, or even your divine gifts. I’m not asking what you do well, or what you’re working on. I’m asking:

• Who is the one holding all of that?
• Who is the one underneath the attributes, the behaviors, the survival strategies, and the accolades?

For many of us, this question is hard to hold, not because we don’t know the answer, but because we’ve been taught to look everywhere but within for the truth. We’ve been conditioned to believe that we are our flaws, our past, our labels, or our trauma. We’ve internalized the idea that we were “born bad,” are somehow less than, or that we must earn our worth.

That’s why, if I asked you to name five things that are powerful, beautiful, or sacred about yourself… many would freeze. But if I asked you to name five things you struggle with, want to fix, or feel ashamed of — most could rattle them off without hesitation.

But here’s the truth:

• The things you do — whether you call them good or bad — are not who you are.
• Your strengths and gifts are expressions of you.
• Your struggles are often the survival-mode versions of those same gifts, distorted by pain or fear.

So again — Who are you beyond what you’ve done, beyond what’s been done to you?

Here’s why this is a paradox:

• The answer isn’t something you describe. It’s something you remember.
• It’s the part of you that existed before the labels, before the shame, before the world told you who to be.
• It’s the stillness underneath the striving—the clarity beneath the noise.
• It’s the part of you that was never broken, only buried.

When you sit quietly and gather your strengths, your wounds, your divine gifts… and listen…you might hear something ancient. Something whole.

That is you, that is who you are, that is remembering yourself.
 
Let me share the difference between describing and remembering:

Example 1  

Describing:
“I am a successful entrepreneur who built my business from the ground up.”
Remembering:
“I am a creator. I turn vision into form. I was born to build what does not yet exist and to walk in purpose, not just profit.”

Example 2

Describing:
“I am a mother who gave everything for my children.”
Remembering:
“I am love in motion. I am the sacred container through which life is nurtured, guided, and made whole.”

Example 3

Describing:
“I am a survivor of trauma who’s learning to thrive.”
Remembering:
“I am whole, even in my brokenness. I am the one who walked through fire and carried light with me.”

Example 4

Describing:
“I am a Black woman who has fought to be seen and heard.”
Remembering:
“I am the echo of ancestors’ prayers. I am power, beauty, and sacred knowing. I do not fight to be seen — I remember that I already shine.”

Example 5

Describing:
“I am a consultant who teaches communication and conflict resolution.”
Remembering:
“I am a vessel for connection. I am here to restore harmony, awaken listening, and return people to themselves.”

Example 6

Describing:
“I am a recovering addict who made a lot of mistakes.”
Remembering:
“I am the soul that chose to awaken through contrast. I am grace wrapped in flesh, rewriting what healing looks like.”

This is the sacred work: to remember who you are. Let’s talk about your remembering at our next Wednesday gathering on August 6. I hope you’ll join me, not just to talk, but to remember. 

~André