🎤 Behind the Roar | July 19, 2025
Ten years ago, I didn’t know if I’d get to this moment.
Not just surviving. But standing tall. Creating. Leading. Roaring.
And here I am. Ten years later—not fixed, not fearless, and not without scars to show—but fully alive.
This week has been heavy, and honest. I’ve written about exhaustion, doubt, and the reminder that authenticity isn’t always easy. But today, I want to pause and mark this milestone with truth.
Ten years. Ten truths.
💥Here’s what I’ve learned about roaring through the hard stuff:
1. Self-doubt doesn’t mean you’ve lost your roar.
I have been writing a mantra in my journal recently that has helped keep me grounded:
“Everything I’m looking for is already within me. The only force that can stop me is my own self-doubt.”
Even the most confident among us wrestle with that inner voice sometimes. But doubt doesn’t erase your power—it just asks you to remember it.
When those thoughts creep in, meet them with a mantra of your own.
One that reminds you who you are.
2. Healing is a journey—but you have to be brave enough to take that first, scary step.
Whether you’re healing from physical trauma or emotional pain, it’s easy to get stuck in despair—as if the pain will never end, or as if you’ll never return to who you once were.
But healing isn’t about going back.
It’s about moving forward and becoming—growing beyond who you were, evolving into a more grounded, courageous and wise version of yourself. One who can weather any storm—because you’ve done the work to heal from within.
3. You don’t need to become someone else to be powerful.
This truth was the heartbeat of this week’s Lioness Journal. If you haven’t read it yet—or want to revisit it—you can find it here.
But I want to leave you with this reminder from Roar Like A Woman:
Before you can rise, roar, or lead, you must know who you are—
and believe, without hesitation, that you are enough.
— Ronda K. Salazar
4. Asking for help is a courageous act.
After my cancer surgery, I had no choice but to rely on others—and it was hard. I was used to being strong, independent, the one others leaned on. But in that moment, I couldn’t do it all. And letting go of control felt like weakness.
Until my brother said something that changed my perspective:
“Sometimes people need to be allowed to help. It gives them purpose—to walk beside us through something we can’t carry alone.”
Accepting help isn’t failure.
It’s trust.
It’s strength.
And it’s one of the bravest things you can do.
5. Pain changes you—but you choose what it shapes.
There have been moments in my life—especially in the aftermath of trauma or loss—when I felt like I had no control over what was happening to me.
My cancer experience was one of those moments.
As I moved through that time, as I physically healed and emotionally grieved the loss of a part of what made me feel like a woman, I learned something powerful:
You may not get to choose the pain.
But you do get to choose the response.
You can let it harden you. Or you can let it heal you.
Growth doesn’t mean you never grieve or feel broken—it means you allow yourself to evolve through it.
As Josh Shipp said:
“You either get bitter or you get better.”
I chose to get better then.
And I will continue to choose better over bitter—for the rest of my life.
6. Your story is uniquely sacred. Even the messy parts.
You’re not just one of a kind.
You are one of one.
Your experiences, your voice, your perspective—they weave a storyline that no one else on this earth can tell. And that includes the chapters you’re proud of, the ones that broke you, and the ones still in progress.
As I continue evolving into my future self, I’m learning to honor the entire narrative—
To embrace my uniqueness,
To own the painful moments,
And to find pride in a story that only I can claim.
7. You were always enough. You just forgot for a moment.
We all have seasons where we question our worth—when we shrink, doubt, or try to prove ourselves in spaces that don’t see us clearly.
But worth isn’t something you earn or chase.
It’s something you remember.
You were enough before the title, the praise, the pain, or the pressure.
And you are still enough now.
You just forgot for a moment.
This is your reminder.
8. Be authentic. Always.
In the corporate world, women are often expected to “fit in”, “stay small”, or “keep quiet.”
It’s not easy to go against the grain—to swim upstream, to color outside the lines, to speak up when silence is safer.
But here’s what I know for sure:
Real respect isn’t earned through compliance.
It’s built when you stand rooted in your values.
When you act with integrity.
When you choose authenticity, even when it costs you something.
That’s where true leadership begins.
And that’s the kind of respect no one can take away.
9. There is a silver lining in every experience—if you choose to look.
On the day of my 10-year survivor-versary, I paused to reflect on everything I’ve lived through since that moment I walked into the hospital—uncertain, afraid, and forever changed.
And what I saw was this:
Even through the fear, the pain, and the healing….
Even through the scars that still tell the story of both loss and resilience…
There is so much light.
I’ve gained friendships I never would have known.
I’ve stood on stages I never imagined.
I’ve inspired women to get mammograms—women who now know early detection can save their lives.
That is my silver lining.
That is my humbling gift.
I am alive. I am a survivor.
And my work isn’t done yet.
10. You can be exhausted and still powerful.
Lately, I’ve been walking through something difficult at work. I won’t go into the details, but I will say this: I’ve been standing tall for what I believe is right—guided by my ethics, my values, and my deep responsibility to protect the people I lead.
And that has come at a cost.
When you take a stand for integrity, especially in systems that aren’t ready for it, it can feel like you’re swimming upstream. And when the results of doing the right thing take time—or create discomfort for others—it’s easy for the blame to land on the one who dared to lead with courage.
I’ve felt the weight of that. I’ve felt tired. Disheartened. Even a little disillusioned.
But here’s what I know for sure:
That exhaustion is evidence of my strength.
Because I didn’t shrink. I didn’t stay silent. I didn’t sell out my values for approval or convenience.
And that is power.
Quiet. Steady. Unshakable.
Power isn’t the absence of fatigue—it’s the decision to keep showing up anyway.
Let’s keep showing up anyway—together.
— Ronda 💛
📖 Want More?
These ten truths are a small reflection of the empowering words and tools that I share in Roar Like A Woman.
🖨️ Want a printable version of these Ten Truths?
👉 Click here to download the PDF
Frame it. Highlight it. Revisit it when things get hard.
Let it remind you of how far you’ve come—and how powerful you still are.
If you want to learn more about how you can step into your own unshakeable power and authenticity, grab your signed copy of Roar Like A Woman here.
Keep roaring!
— Ronda 💛