Aderanti - The Healing Power of Emotional and Self Validation
Aderanti - She’s as still as a lake remembering who she really is.
Aderanti - The Deepest Remembering
As I curated this message, I wept.
Not with weakness, but with a release so deep my soul was set free—
Free from all the years it believed it was broken.
Free from the moments it was called too much.
Free from the silent wounds of being misjudged, misunderstood, and misplaced.
The pain was real.
And yet, in the expression of truth, there is profound liberation.
This truth does not ask for permission.
It does not seek agreement.
It simply is—mine to hold, mine to speak, mine to share.
After 38 years of living in the shadows of who I thought I needed to be,
today, that chapter ends.
I am that I am.
I am Oluwatobiloba—a sacred name, a sacred being.
And I reclaim the truth, liberty, and sovereignty of my soul.
This is not just a story.
This is a sacred return to myself.
It has taken immense courage—
Years of shrinking, hiding, numbing, and shape-shifting
just to feel safe, accepted, loved.
But no more.
Now, I rise.
Now, I speak.
Now, I allow my stories to breathe.
I pray that these stories liberate you.
I pray that they call you home to the parts of yourself that have waited patiently for your unconditional love.
I pray that they free you from the weight of contorting into someone you were never meant to be.
May these words awaken you.
May they breathe life into your bones.
May they remind you that you are Divine—exactly as you are.
Be brave, beloved.
Live courageously.
Walk gently with yourself.
And as you do, life will rise to meet you with grace.
You will begin to meet those who love you not for your masks or performances—
but for your presence, your essence, your truth.
And in that sacred meeting,
you will remember:
You were never broken.
You were only being.
The Beautiful Majestic Black Cobra
BLACK COBRA — The Sacred Return to Self
As a child, I needed to be seen—not for who I was expected to be, but for who I truly am.
I needed love that embraced my essence, not my obedience.
I needed validation for my feelings, for my voice, for my inner world.
I needed to be honored for my freedom, for my uniqueness, for my wild and wondrous way of sensing life.
But instead, I was met with silence.
Not because those who cared for me were unloving,
but because they simply did not have the tools, the capacity, or the language
to meet me in the sacred space of my being.
In a world where logic was praised above love,
and knowledge was valued more than wisdom,
where achievement was more important than enjoyment,
my inner knowing was pushed to the shadows.
I learnt early on to suppress what was alive within me—
to numb, to hide, to conform, to survive.
I became what was expected:
Obedient. Quiet. Palatable.
But inside, my spirit cried for freedom.
The freedom to feel. The freedom to be. The freedom to choose. The freedom to be alive.
To be natural, not manufactured.
To be real, not rehearsed.
All I ever needed was love. Genuine unconditional love.
Love that doesn't try to fix or change or control—
but one that sees, hears, and honors the soul.
I needed compassion that held space for my truth,
kindness that nurtured my sensitivity,
and empathy that reflected back my worth.
I am not broken—I was born deeply intuitive.
I am led by the feminine current of life:
by sensing, by being, by presence, by listening.
I perceive what is invisible to the mind,
and know what cannot be taught in books.
This is not a flaw.
This is my power.
In a culture that praises performance and punishes presence,
those like me—empaths, seers, feelers, healers—
have been misunderstood, mislabeled, and misplaced.
We were called too much or too sensitive,
when in truth we were deeply attuned to what others could not yet feel.
So we gave. We gave our love, our care, our listening, our seeing—
hoping that, in return, someone might truly see us.
But like water that turns to ice,
we froze our own needs.
We abandoned ourselves to belong.
We exiled our gifts to survive.
Until something deep inside us stirred.
We began to rise.
From the numbness, from the disconnection, from the soul-death
of trying to live someone else's version of success.
We began to remember—
that we are not here to perform,
we are here to be.
Like the tree that stands rooted in silence yet offers shade,
we do not need to dance for attention.
Our presence is the offering.
Now, we reclaim our power—
not with force, but with truth.
Not with rebellion, but with remembrance.
We are not here to fit into systems that diminish us.
We are here to birth new paradigms.
To live from love, not fear.
To lead from the heart, not the ego.
To reawaken a world that has forgotten its soul.
We are no longer willing to sacrifice our authenticity
for acceptance, or our wellbeing for worthiness.
We are here to be valued for our being,
not just our doing.
We deserve spaces where our gifts are recognized,
where our ways of knowing are honored,
where our sensitivity is not a burden—but a blessing.
We deserve opportunities that mirror our truth,
not distort our essence.
We are not broken. We are the medicine.
We are not too much. We are exactly what this world has been waiting for.
And so, I rise.
I rise to reclaim my voice.
I rise to speak sacred truth into the noise.
I rise to create a world where everyone belongs.
Where every soul—no matter how tender, how wild, how different—
is welcomed, honored, and set free to be fully themselves.
Because only in that freedom
can we truly come alive.
The peace and blessings of the most High be with you and your loved ones. Ire o! Many Blessings.
Peace and Pure Divine Unconditional Love Always
Oluwatobiloba - Iyanifa Ifadiwura, Yeye Osunkemi, Oloosa, Olorisa, Iyanuaje | High Priestess of IFA and Osun. Obatala Priestess, One who walks and works with Orisa. Wealthy Woman.
