Your Story | Our Strength

What the "Queen Monologue" Means to Us...

Your Story is Your Power! The Queen Monologues are the heartbeat of our community. This isn’t just a presentation; it’s a takeover. We close every meeting with one woman, her heart on her sleeve, and a story that demands to be told. We’re looking for a fresh perspective for our next session.

Claim your crown. Claim the mic. The next "Queen Monologue" belongs to you.

Story by: Queen Tenise Edwards

Title: 39 Rings of Grace

Good evening, Queens.

This past Saturday, I turned 39.

Thirty-nine… a number that has whispered to me for years, because 39 was also the age my mother reached—just two months before she left this earth. She left behind two daughters: one 19 and one 11. I was the 11-year-old.

When you lose your mother that young, you don’t just lose a person; you lose a reference point. You lose the voice you imagine hearing in life’s defining moments and the embrace you expect to find when life feels heavy. Loss like that leaves questions that echo, milestones that feel tender, and a space that no title, accomplishment, or relationship can fully replace.

For years, I wondered what it would feel like to stand at this age—an age she never had the opportunity to grow beyond. But this weekend, I was reminded of Isaiah 61:3: that God gives beauty for ashes, joy for mourning, and praise instead of despair.

Because while I lost my mother, I was never left without mothering. God, in His wisdom, surrounded me with women who carried pieces of what I needed until I could carry it for myself.

• My grandmother, now 91 years strong; a woman who endured the unthinkable loss of three of her six children, including my mother, yet still wrapped me in love, discipline, and quiet strength.
• My aunt, who stepped in with courage and wisdom, ensuring that even in loss, I was protected and provided for.
• An afterschool counselor with no biological children of her own, who chose to call me her goddaughter and became a steady presence when life felt uncertain.
• A former supervisor turned dear friend, who saw promise in me when my confidence was still forming and extended grace when my resources did not match the environments I was navigating.
• An executive leader, someone I once struggled to understand, who now speaks my name in rooms I have not yet entered.
• Women in ministry, facilitators, and accountability partners, who remind me that healing multiplies in community and strength grows in sisterhood.
• And the many women—friends, co-workers, aunts, and cousins—who stood in the gap for either a reason or a season, offering wisdom, encouragement, protection, and presence exactly when it was needed.

Each woman is a thread. Each moment is a stitch. Together, they form a covering I did not know I was being wrapped in. Like the rings of a tree, each year of life forms another layer, shaped by seasons of growth, stretching, pruning, and endurance.

Thirty-nine rings. Thirty-nine reminders. Thirty-nine years of being kept, carried, and called forward.

Today, I stand 39 years old: a wife, a mother to two beautiful children (ages 6 and 16), a professional, a disciple, and a woman still becoming.

My foundation is rooted in faith and obedience. My purpose is to encourage, equip, and uplift others through wisdom shaped by both joy and adversity. My mission is to live authentically, lead courageously, and create spaces where others feel seen, supported, and strengthened. My ministry is to offer my life as evidence that even in loss, God restores, God provides, and God surrounds us with exactly who we need, when we need them.

In this season of my life, I am being strengthened through pressure and refined for greater purpose. I am not defined by what I lost; I am strengthened by what I have been given.

Thirty-nine rings of grace.