Layers

I remember the first time I opened up to someone about the trauma I had experienced—the flood of negative emotions and the triggers that followed me like shadows. Speaking it out loud was freeing. For the first time, I was able to release the heavy burden that had been rattling around in my heart and soul for far too long. That pain had made a home in me, and it tormented me often.

The healing process I went through—very different from Mace, and far less efficient—was slow, painful, and required revisiting memories I had desperately tried to forget. It took hours of talking, reliving trauma, and confronting the deep hurts that had shaped my life. With the help of a trusted counselor, I took it one step at a time, diligently working through each wound. Piece by piece, I uncovered the false beliefs I had formed about myself and began the difficult task of dismantling them. It wasn't easy.

But slowly, I began to feel a shift. I no longer crumbled in the face of triggers. I stopped screaming inside my head or isolating myself in my room for a day just to cope. That had been my norm—retreat, shut down, and survive. I often felt completely out of control, with no clue how to take that control back.

I wish I had known about Mace back then. What took me years in traditional therapy could have been addressed so much faster. Mace would have helped bring those deeply rooted false identities to the surface—the harsh inner critics I had lived with for so long—and neutralized them efficiently. But I hadn't heard of it, and so I suffered longer than I had to.

One of the hardest parts of that journey was the haunting belief that there was always more. More trauma. More buried emotion. More darkness tucked away in the recesses of my heart, just waiting for the right trigger to set it loose. It felt endless. In talk therapy, it took years to peel back those layers. Some wounds were hidden so well, even I didn't know they were there. They were like shadows lurking in the corners of my soul—silent until triggered, then loud, punishing, and overwhelming. I just wish I'd had Mace.

I could have spared myself years of painful work. I could have found freedom—and my true self—so much sooner. I could have unlearned the lie that I was a bad person, a lie those false identities had drilled into me. I could have built a strong self-image and lived a fuller, freer life. But back then, I didn't know Mace existed.

When I finally discovered Mace and saw firsthand what it could do, I knew I wanted to dedicate my life to sharing it with others—to help hurting people who, like me, just want to be free. I do this work because I know how it feels to be imprisoned by emotions you don't understand, to be trapped in a version of yourself that isn't truly you.

Mace can get you to freedom—and to your real self—faster than you might believe.