The circle felt smaller somehow, the air thick with unsaid words. Miriam glanced around gently and said, "Tonight, I want us to name the lies we believe about ourselves. The things that trap us and keep us from living freely."
Naomi's throat tightened. The lie she carried wasn't new. I'm too fat. Too slow. Too much. She glanced at the floor and then forced the words out. "I skip meals sometimes… to punish myself." Her voice cracked, and she wiped a sudden tear away.
Grace swallowed hard, fingers trembling. "I don't feel like a woman anymore. Just a mother… someone who disappears into the background." Her eyes shimmered, but she kept looking down.
Isabel's cheeks flushed. She cleared her throat. "I… I edit my photos. A lot. Because the real me feels like a mistake sometimes." The admission felt like a weight lifted, but also a risk.
Ruth's voice was soft but steady. "I feel… useless. Like my beauty faded with the years, and no one notices me anymore." Her gaze drifted to the window, then back to the group.
Miriam reached out, her hand resting lightly over Naomi's. "Every lie you've shared is a prison. But the truth," she said, looking each woman in the eye, "is that you are free to live differently. God's truth is the key."
The women sat in silence for a moment, the room no longer heavy but somehow lighter, as if a breath had been released. They weren't alone anymore.