Testimonials

 June 22, 2025

Tonight I sit quietly, trying to find words for the gratitude that fills every part of me. I think back on my journey with iboga, and my heart aches in the most beautiful way. There are moments in life that change you so completely you know you can never go back. This was one of them. A sacred gift from God, from the universe, from the earth itself, a gift that met me in my deepest need and brought me home.

Iboga did not heal me gently. It met me with truth. It stripped me bare. It reached into the places I had long abandoned, the places I was too afraid to face, and it laid them before me with such honesty I could not look away. It showed me the heartbreak I had buried, the shame I had worn like armor, the silent wounds that shaped me when I wasn’t even looking. And I wept. I wept for the person I was, the one who tried so hard to be strong while quietly breaking inside. I wept for the child in me who had waited so long to be seen, to be held, to be told I was enough, and that I always had been.

Iboga met me in the dark corners where I thought I could hide. It uncovered the sorrow I had carried without complaint, the quiet ache I never let the world see. And in that breaking I felt a love greater than I have ever known, a love from God, from the universe, from the very breath of creation, whispering that even in my pain I was never alone. I was being held. I was being guided. I was being made new.

There were no flashing images of the past, no visions of old photographs, only feeling. Raw, powerful feeling. And in that feeling I saw not just my wounds but my strength, my resilience, my sacred purpose. I saw that even my brokenness was beautiful, because it brought me here, to this moment of awakening, of surrender, of grace.

And in the quiet of that sacred Sunday afternoon, when the darkness tried to claim me, when I felt the shadow of something that wanted to pull me under, it was God who reached in and saved my soul. It was God who lit the way back when I could not see it, who reminded me that no darkness is stronger than the light of His love. I will never forget the feeling of being rescued, of being wrapped in that mercy, of knowing with every part of me that I had been spared. That I had been saved.

Tonight I sit with tears on my face, and they are not tears of sadness. They are tears of thanks. Thanks to iboga, the sacred medicine that showed me the way. Thanks to God for saving me, for lifting me from the grip of what tried to take me, for loving me back to life. Thanks to the universe for holding me in its great mystery. Thanks to the earth for grounding me when I thought I might fall. And thanks to myself for finding the courage to say yes, to trust, to believe I am worthy of this healing.

If my tears could speak they would say thank you. Thank you for giving me back to myself. Thank you for reminding me that I am, and have always been, part of something holy.

-Londi D.