EndoDad76

08/01/2025

https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=pIG4S7i0XB4&si=0wAeDR_R0RvIkopx

Provided to YouTube by DistroKid A Song Nobody Hears · Mike Baker · Mike Baker · Mike Baker A Song Nobody Hears ℗ Mike Baker Music Released on: 2025-08-0...

07/21/2025

🎧 New Podcast Guest Appearance!

I had the chance to join the team at BookThinkers: Life-Changing Books for their 250th episode. We talked about The Optimist’s Way, why hope matters, and how small, steady choices shape the way we lead, live, and love.

This isn’t my podcast — I’m just honored to be a guest. If you’re someone who believes in the power of books, leadership with heart, or just showing up for your people through the hard stuff… this conversation is for you.

Thanks again to the BookThinkers crew for having me on.
🎙 Listen here: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1uHOJV4THMjfwNMuOCUend...
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07/17/2025

⚔️ The Warrior
What They Never Told Us – Archetypes of Endo

She’s fought a thousand battles no one witnessed.
Flares at midnight.
Surgeries that didn’t solve it.
Rooms full of professionals who talked around her pain like it was inconvenient.

And still—she kept getting back up.
Not with rage.
Not with inspiration.
But with blood in her socks and heat packs taped to her skin.

She didn’t want to be strong.
She wanted rest.
She wanted care.
She wanted someone else to carry the weight for once.

But nobody came.
So she became the one who shows up.
Every appointment.
Every morning.
Every damn flare.

She is not defined by her pain.
But don’t mistake that for peace.
She’s still in the fight.
Every. Single. Day.

⚔️ Comment “Still fighting” if you've had to armor up just to make it through
⚔️ Tag a Warrior who deserves more than survival
⚔️ Save this for the days when getting up feels like a battlefield

07/16/2025

🛡 She Is Her Own Army

She doesn’t walk alone.
Not anymore.

All around her are the versions of herself that got her here.
The one who sat shaking in a paper gown, waiting for answers that never came.
The one who cried through another flare and still got up the next day.
The one who signed the surgical consent forms even though she was terrified.
The one who slowly, painfully, started putting her life back together.

Each one still with her.
Each one standing guard.
Not erased—honored.

She’s a circle of survival.
Back-to-back with every version of who she’s had to be.
Not for show.
Not for sympathy.
But because that’s what it took to still be here.

This isn’t about moving on.
This is about remembering who kept her alive.
And choosing to carry them forward, not leave them behind.

🛡 Comment “Still standing” if you've ever had to fight beside your own past
🛡 Tag someone who keeps showing up for themselves
🛡 Save this for the days when your old wounds start whispering again

07/15/2025

🕯 She Stopped Chasing the Cure

There was a time she believed healing meant fixing everything.
Getting back to how things used to be.
Being “normal” again.

But years passed.
She collected tests that led nowhere.
Treatments that stole more than they gave.
Apologies that came too late—if they came at all.

So she stopped chasing the cure.
Not because she gave up,
but because she finally realized the system was never built for someone like her.

She learned to survive without certainty.
To create peace inside a body that still hurt.
To find wholeness in fragments.

Now she sits with all of it.
The referrals.
The scars.
The absence of answers.

Not defeated—just awake.
Not healed—but free from the lie that healing is linear, fast, or always possible.

🕯 Comment “I’m still here” if your healing didn’t follow a straight line
🕯 Tag someone learning to live inside the in-between
🕯 Save this for the days when progress feels invisible

07/14/2025

🩸 She Doesn’t Owe You Pretty

She’s not here to make you comfortable.
Not here to wrap her pain in filters or make her story easier to hear.

Her body shows it.
The weight she lost waiting.
The shape of her bones from years without rest.
The lines in her face drawn by nights no one stayed.

She sits on a throne built from what they left her with—
rubber gloves that touched but didn’t help,
referral letters that led nowhere,
heat packs that lost their warmth years ago.

And still—she sits like fire.
Back straight.
Eyes forward.
Like she knows something the rest of us forgot.

There’s no smile here.
No bowing.
No dressing it up to make it palatable.

She doesn’t owe you pretty.
She owes herself everything.

🩸 Comment “I carry truth” if you’re done performing for their comfort
🩸 Tag someone who turned survival into sovereignty
🩸 Save this for the days when they expect you to smile through pain

07/13/2025

🩶 She Became the Proof

They said it was stress.
They said she was overreacting.
They said it was in her head.

And she believed them—for a while.
Until her body told a story that couldn’t be ignored anymore.
Until the silence turned into symptoms.
Until her weight dropped, her world shrank,
and the pain kept growing louder than the doubt.

No one rushed in to help.
The system moved slowly.
Referrals piled up.
Answers stayed out of reach.
But she didn’t vanish.

She built a throne from the things they left behind.
The gloves that never brought comfort.
The heating pads that barely took the edge off.
The paperwork that promised care—but never delivered it.

Now she sits in the stillness.
Not waiting.
Not hoping.
Just being.

She doesn’t need to convince anyone anymore.
Her existence is the evidence.
Her survival is the record.
She became the proof.

🩶 Comment “I’ve lived this” if you’ve ever been treated like your pain wasn’t real
🩶 Tag someone who has made strength from being dismissed
🩶 Save this for the days when you’re done explaining yourself

07/12/2025

👁 She Waited Too Long

She wasn’t weak.
She was patient.
Too patient.

She waited through years of misdiagnosis,
through delays and referrals that led nowhere,
through people calling her dramatic
while her body was breaking down in slow motion.

This image?
It’s what that kind of waiting looks like.

Her ribs tell stories now.
Her throne is made of what they left behind—
the gloves that touched her without listening,
the forms no one followed up on,
the pads that never eased the pain.

And yet—
she sits like she owns the room.
Because after all that time,
she does.

There’s nothing left to prove.
And everything left to say.

👁 Comment “No more waiting” if the system failed you too
👁 Tag someone who turned neglect into power
👁 Save this if you're tired of being told to just hang in there

07/11/2025

🩻 Throne of the Forgotten

They forgot her.
The system moved on.
The referrals never came.
The follow-up calls never rang.
The help she asked for got buried in a file somewhere that no one ever opened.

But she didn’t disappear.
She sat down in the wreckage.
In the heat-worn pads,
the latex remnants,
the diagnosis codes that never led to healing.

She made a throne out of it.
Not because she wanted to be strong—
but because she had no choice but to survive what they didn’t fix.

Look at her eyes.
That’s what prophecy looks like.
That’s what it means to know your body better than any specialist who shrugged you off.
That’s what it means to endure, even when care never arrived.

This isn’t a victory story.
It’s a reckoning.

🩻 Comment “I remember the waiting” if you've lived this truth
🩻 Tag someone who’s still holding power in the silence
🩻 Save this for the days you feel erased

07/10/2025

⚔️ She Keeps Getting Back Up

No music.
No fanfare.
Just the sound of her breath,
sharp and shallow,
as she pulls herself upright again.

Her hands shake.
Her knees have hit this ground before.
But there’s something in her posture—
something that says:
“I’m not done.”

This is the fight they don’t turn into movies.
No victory speech.
No spotlight.
Just a quiet kind of defiance
built from sleepless nights, unanswered questions, and pain that never lets up.

She’s not fearless.
She’s not invincible.
But she’s still here.
Still rising.
Still pushing forward with cracked bones and a burning core.

This isn’t a comeback.
She never left.

⚔️ Comment “Still standing” if you’ve had to rebuild yourself quietly
⚔️ Tag a warrior who rises even when no one is watching
⚔️ Save this for the days your strength feels worn out

07/09/2025

🔥 She Burned and Rose Anyway

Curled over in pain,
body tight, breath shallow,
every muscle holding back a scream.

But look closer—
the outline tells a different story.
Not broken.
Just mid-transformation.

The fire behind her doesn’t consume.
It becomes her.
Wings made of everything she’s survived:
every flare, every dismissal, every night she begged her body to ease up.

She doesn’t need armor.
She wears flame.
Not because she asked to be strong—
but because no one gave her another choice.

This is what survival can look like.
Folded in half,
glowing at the edges,
still moving forward through the smoke.

🔥 Comment “Still rising” if you’ve ever carried fire in silence
🔥 Tag someone whose strength deserves to be seen
🔥 Save this for the days when you feel like you’re burning from the inside out