Shawnti Refuge shared their story and experiences with us recently and you can find our conversation below.
Good morning Shawnti , it’s such a great way to kick off the day – I think our readers will love hearing your stories, experiences and about how you think about life and work. Let’s jump right in? What do you think is misunderstood about your business?
People assume I sell journals. That’s cute, but no—I facilitate healing.
My business isn’t just about paper and prompts. It’s about helping people unlearn survival mode, confront hard truths, and finally give themselves permission to feel, release, and grow. The journal is just the tool—I’m walking folks through the transformation.
What gets misunderstood is the depth. Folks think guided journaling is passive. Like, “Oh that’s nice, you help people write their feelings.” No, baby. I help people free themselves. I work with women who are high-functioning but emotionally exhausted. Mothers who are grieving estrangement. Professionals who don’t know who they are outside of achievement. I create spaces—through journals, coaching, and support groups—for people to sit with themselves and do the uncomfortable work of healing in real time.
So what’s misunderstood? That this is cute, calm, cozy work. It’s not. It’s messy. It’s hard. It’s sacred. And it’s necessary.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
Hi, I’m Shawnti Refuge. I’m an Award-Winning. Master Certified Mental Health Coach, author, speaker, and the founder of Shawnti Refuge Journals—a healing-centered brand that helps people use guided journaling to unpack emotional baggage, reclaim their voice, and break cycles.
After surviving depression, emotional abuse, and a mental breakdown in 2018, I made a commitment to heal for real—and not just for appearances. I created my first guided journal as a way to process pain, and now I’ve built an entire ecosystem of support—from live workshops and online courses to support groups and signature journals like FREE YOSELF and Quiet as Kept.
What makes my work unique is the rawness. I don’t do fluff. I help people—especially Black women—heal out loud. I ask the questions that make you shift in your seat. I say the things we’ve been taught to keep quiet. And I hold space for folks who are tired of pretending they’re okay when they’re not.
Right now, I’m expanding my support group Mothering in the Dark, turning it into a full anthology for estranged mothers and daughters. I’m also hosting journaling workshops, growing my podcast, and building collaborations that center healing, storytelling, and emotional wellness.
This is more than a brand—it’s a movement. A movement rooted in truth, transformation, and the kind of freedom that starts from within.
Okay, so here’s a deep one: What part of you has served its purpose and must now be released?
The part of me that served its purpose but has to be released is the version of me that only knew how to survive.
She was strong, yes—but she was also tired. She was the one who kept smiling through the pain, kept giving when she was empty, kept performing worthiness just to feel loved. She learned how to read the room before she ever learned how to read her own needs.
That version of me protected me when I didn’t have the language, the resources, or the support. But she can’t go where I’m headed. I’m not in survival mode anymore—I’m choosing softness. I’m choosing peace. I’m choosing boundaries, rest, and real joy.
I honor her. I thank her. But it’s time to let her go.
Was there ever a time you almost gave up?
Yes. 2018.
I hit rock bottom. I was smiling in public and crumbling in private. I had been carrying the weight of childhood trauma, toxic relationships, and the pressure to keep it all together. I remember sitting in my car one day, unable to move. My body was present, but my spirit had tapped out. I was done. Tired of pretending. Tired of being strong. Tired of feeling like healing wasn’t even meant for women like me.
That was the moment I almost gave up—not just on my dreams, but on myself.
But something shifted. I picked up a pen and started writing—not to be deep, not to be poetic—but to survive. One journal prompt turned into a conversation with myself. That conversation turned into clarity. That clarity turned into purpose.
And now here I am—still healing, still growing, but no longer silent. And every journal, coaching session, or support group I create? That’s me reaching back for the woman I used to be… and making sure nobody else has to suffer in silence like I did.
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What important truth do very few people agree with you on?
That healing can be messy and beautiful—and that sometimes, going no contact is an act of self-love, not disrespect.
People love to say “family is everything,” but what if your family is the source of your pain? What if the people who raised you also silenced you, shamed you, or made you feel like love had to be earned?
A lot of folks don’t agree with cutting ties, especially in our culture. But I believe choosing your peace—even if it costs you the relationship—is one of the most powerful things you can do. That doesn’t mean I hate them. It means I love myself enough not to bleed for people who never bring a bandage.
Healing sometimes looks like distance. Like boundaries. Like saying, “I still love you, but I love me more.”
And a lot of people aren’t ready for that kind of truth—but it doesn’t make it any less valid.
Okay, so let’s keep going with one more question that means a lot to us: What is the story you hope people tell about you when you’re gone?
That I told the truth—and it set people free.
I hope they say I made healing feel possible. That I held space for the ones who were always the strong friend. That I helped people put their pain on paper so they could stop carrying it in their bodies. That I made people feel seen, even in their silence.
I want folks to say, “She didn’t just talk about healing. She lived it. She was bold enough to break the cycles. Soft enough to hold space. And real enough to show the ugly parts, too.”
I don’t care about being remembered as perfect. I care about being remembered as present. As the one who cracked open hard conversations and reminded people that their story still mattered—even the parts they tried to hide.
If my name gets brought up in a room full of hurting people, I hope they say, “She helped me come home to myself.”
That’s the story I want to leave behind.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://Shawntirefuge.com
- Instagram: @shawntirefufejournals
- Linkedin: Shawnti Refuge
- Facebook: Shawnti Refuge Journals
- Youtube: @shawntirefufejournals
- Other: https://TheQuietAsKeptPodcast.buzzsprout.com
Image Credits
B2Ful Photography
