Tuh. I’ve Got Questions: What’s the Fire, What’s the Hammer, Who’s Swinging It?

Comic book realism illustration of a voluptuous woman with two afro puffs, glowing with cracks of molten fire and steel, symbolizing resilience, strength, and softness. Designed for women seeking empowerment and thriving beyond survival.

Last week, in This Ain’t Even My Signature, I wrote about how survival mode will have us living as knock-off versions of ourselves.

Listen. 

Been there.

Done that…Not trying to go back.

This week, I want to talk about life in the forge — and the kind of fire that can either refine or erase you.

Consider this. My cousin, right? He’s a welder. And while I’m no expert in his trade, I’ve paid just enough attention to see how the process mirrors my own life. In the forge, there are four players: the fire, the hammer, the metal, and the one doing the striking.

The forge is the environment.
The fire? That’s the heat that makes you pliable.
The hammer? It strikes the softened places.
And the metal — that’s you, Sis. Blueprint and all, laid out on the anvil.

Now, I’m no welding expert. But I know enough to say this: If we find ourselves in our own personal furnaces, it’s in our best interest to ask a few questions: what’s the fire, what’s the hammer, and who’s swinging it. Otherwise, we can end up bent out of shape before we even realize what hit us.

Illustration of a woman standing tall and whole while her shadow behind her appears bent and twisted. The contrast symbolizes resilience, vulnerability, and the danger of becoming bent out of shape when ignoring the fire, the hammer, and who’s swinging it.

Living in the Forge: Lessons on Pressure and Resilience

In A Pot to P*ss In, I wrote about a season that tested everything I thought I knew. In 2021, between Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, I buried seven people. The hundreds of thousands I was waiting on to scale my business? Paused. My relationships? Messy. My children? Struggling.

I remember funeral programs stacked on my kitchen counter, right next to the unpaid bills. I remember answering emails with a hospital bracelet still on my wrist. I remember sitting in my car after another late-night emergency, both hands gripping the steering wheel, not sure how to walk back inside my own house.

That was a forge. A container. An environment that held the heat.

By 2023 and 2024, I found myself in another forge — only hotter, heavier, harder. More deaths. More family drama. More financial blows. Three of my children had near-death experiences.

I wasn’t just fighting for a house — I was fighting to keep it. I was fighting for my family, my sanity, my business, my peace.

And somewhere in the middle of all that smoke, I realized: surviving the forge wasn’t the goal anymore.

It was time to get clear about what was going on. It was time to ask some questions:

What’s the fire?
What’s the hammer?
Who’s swinging it — and are they trying to refine me, or erase me?

An anvil surrounded by smoke and sparks, symbolizing resilience under pressure in the forge of life. Fiery orange tones with deep shadows, designed to empower women navigating survival and thriving.

Naming the Fire and the Hammer

At first, it all looked like bad luck. Blow after blow. A storm with no eye. But when I slowed down, I could name the hammers — the tools striking me in the heat, reshaping me for better or worse.

Scaling my business without structure.

• The fire: growth.

• The hammer: poor systems.

I hired too fast, without onboarding, accountability, or conflict strategy. I thought vision alone would carry the team. It didn’t. Money got mishandled. Trust was broken. By the time I noticed, the flames had already spread.

My children’s trauma.

• The fire: unresolved pain.

• The hammer: breakdown.

One child laughed through trauma — I mistook it for strength. Another went silent — I called it rebellion. The smoke was there, but I read it wrong. When the hammer fell, it was sudden and devastating.

Spiritual warfare.

• The fire: purpose.

• The hammer: divine test.

Some of this wasn’t just poor planning or parenting missteps. It felt orchestrated. I’d made a vow to impact 2 million women by 2027. That kind of declaration doesn’t go unnoticed. It felt like something bigger whispering, Are you built for this?

Had I recognized the hammers sooner, I could’ve moved differently. Some destruction was preventable. Some pressure could’ve refined me instead of reducing me.

Illustration of a woman slumped in a chair holding a rolled blueprint loosely in her hand. She is attractive and weary, symbolizing resilience, vulnerability, and survival under pressure.

When the Hammer Strikes Wrong: How Pressure Warps Us

The forge is meant to shape you. But not every strike is for your good. Some blows refine. Others warp.

And I’ll be real: I didn’t always hold my blueprint. Sometimes I shrank. I scrambled. I panicked. I clapped back when I should’ve paused. I looked for rescuers instead of strategy.

I didn’t notice how bent I’d become until I looked in the mirror — eyes swollen, hands trembling, hair undone — and saw less of myself.

Still standing, but not whole.
Still leading, but out of breath.
Still building, but unsure if the blueprint would hold.

And here’s the truth: some of me welcomed the fire.

Because I knew how to lose.
I knew how to fight.
But I didn’t know how to thrive at this level.

Quiet intimidated me. Peace felt like a setup. Loneliness and vulnerability crept in when the flames died down — and I didn’t know how to sit with that.

So I leaned back into the forge, the fire, the hammer. I tolerated attacks. I entertained self-sabotage. Because pressure was easier than presence. Chaos was easier than calm.

Because if I was distracted by the heat, I didn’t have to face the scarier thing: the fear of standing still, whole, and seen at a new level.

And let me say it plain: not every bonfire is sacred fire. Some of these flames are just straight-up house fires. Don’t romanticize every blaze.

💡External Read: Why Thriving Is Easier Than Surviving: Survival mode is exhausting.

Illustration of a beautiful woman sitting cross-legged on a wooden floor in a wide-legged suit and cami. She appears calm, in control, and unbothered, symbolizing discernment in the forge of life, resilience, and empowerment.

The Lesson of the Forge: Choosing Refinement Over Reduction

The fire will always come. The hammer will always swing. I shared with you the forces that were at play in my life. Now let’s explore some examples that could be operating in yours.

In my years of coaching, I’ve seen women sit in all kinds of forges.

The fire has been grief after losing a parent. The exhaustion of single parenting. The pressure of carrying a household on one income. Sometimes the fire is success itself — promotions, recognition, expansion — the kind of heat that looks like a blessing but still burns.

The hammer shows up as betrayal from someone close, burnout from saying yes too often, or the blow of your own self-doubt. I’ve seen women hit by financial setbacks, medical diagnoses, or habits that keep them spinning in the same cycles.

Who’s swinging it? Sometimes it’s a boss who doesn’t see your worth. Sometimes it’s a partner who weaponizes your softness. Sometimes it’s a system — racism, sexism, classism — tightening the grip. And sometimes? It’s you, Sis. Swinging that hammer yourself with perfectionism, fear, or self-sabotage.

And here’s the question that changes everything:
Is this strike refining you, or trying to erase you?

Because not every hit is “character building.” Some strikes carve new capacity, deepen your compassion, sharpen your vision. But others? They bend you out of shape. They silence your truth. They strip away your joy until you don’t even recognize yourself.

Naming the fire, the hammer, and the welder isn’t busywork. It’s survival. It’s strategy. It’s power.

Sis, don’t just ask the questions. Answer them. That’s how you keep your blueprint intact in the forge. That’s how you choose refinement over reduction.

And please — don’t confuse every spark for sacred flames. Some sparks will turn into fires that consume you.

Image of blogger, author and coach Dr. Sagashus Levingston inviting the reader to walk with her on your journey.

Ready to Rise — For Real?

If you’re in your own forge right now, don’t walk through it empty-handed.

✨ Use the Covet Journal to map your forge, name your fire, and recognize your hammer.
📖 Read A Pot to P*ss In — proof that survival isn’t the endgame. Discernment is.
🎟️ Join us at a Without Apology Tour stop in Madison or beyond — because your fire isn’t just a test. It’s a blueprint.

The fire doesn’t get the final say. The hammer doesn’t get the final say. You do.

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ABOUT THE BLOGGER

Dr. Sagashus Levingston is an author, entrepreneur and PhD holder. She has two fur babies, Maya and Gracie, six children (three boys and three girls), and they all (including her partner) live in Madison, WI. She loves all things business, is committed to reminding moms of their power, and is dedicated to playing her part in closing the wealth gap for people of color and women. She believes that mothering is a practice, like yoga, and she fights daily to manage her chocolate intake. The struggle is real, y’all…and sometimes it’s beautiful.

Follow her on Instagram: @infamous.mothers