Books
Wounded
But Rising
Fragments of pain, pieces of healing.
For the wounded, the weary, and the ones quietly learning how to live again.
These are not just poems. They are a language of survival. Words we search for when life has broken us in ways we do not know how to explain. Quiet prayers whispered between exhaustion and hope. Deep breaths taken after heartbreak. It's the fragile courage of beginning again.
Written in the spaces between breaking and becoming, Wounded But Rising is a deeply honest and soul-stirring journey through trauma, emotional healing, faith, grief, survival, nervous system exhaustion, identity loss, self-forgiveness, and the sacred work of returning to yourself.
Some wounds do not leave visible scars. Some live quietly in the body. In overthinking. In silence. In emotional exhaustion. In the smile people see and the collapse no one does.
This book was written for
- The one still carrying the invisible pain.
- The one who has spent years surviving but longs to finally feel safe.
- The person who feels disconnected from themselves.
- The one who still believes in God, but no longer has the words to pray.
- The one who has whispered: “I am tired.” “I do not know who I am anymore.” “I want healing, but I do not know where to begin.”
Through raw reflections, poetic healing pieces, sacred stillness, and moments of deep emotional truth, Nokuthula ThuliGlad Ngubane invites readers into a deeply personal yet profoundly universal journey — one that gently speaks to the nervous system, the soul, the inner child, and the parts of us still learning that healing is possible.
This is not healing that rushes you. It is not healing that tells you to “just move on.” Or the one that demands perfection. This is gentle healing. Honest healing. The kind that sits beside you in the dark until you remember how to breathe again.
Because rising does not mean you were never wounded. It means something inside you refused to stop hoping.
More than a book, Wounded But Rising is a companion for the journey home to yourself. A quiet reminder that even after grief, heartbreak, disappointment, silence, fear, and survival — you are still here. Still worthy. Still becoming. Still rising.
The Heart Behind This Book
Some books are planned. This one was lived.
I never planned to write a book. I was simply someone who loved to write. For years, I filled journals with the pieces of my life — thoughts I could not say out loud, prayers whispered through confusion, moments of grief, regrets, questions, fears, heartbreak, healing, hope, and the quiet truths that often only arrive in silence.
Writing became the place where I could tell the truth. To myself. To God. To the parts of me still trying to survive.
Then one day, I found myself returning to those journals. Page after page. Year after year. And as I read, something unexpected happened. A flood of emotions rose to the surface. Sadness. Joy. Anger. Grief. Shame. Laughter. Memories I thought I had buried. Versions of myself I had forgotten. Moments of breaking. Moments of becoming.
And somewhere in the middle of all those pages, a quiet thought surfaced:
“You can write a book from this.”
At first, I dismissed it. A book? Me? Surely not. But the thought stayed. Quietly. Persistently. Like something sacred asking not to be ignored.
When I eventually shared the idea with my husband and my “father,” they encouraged me to continue, reminding me that what had lived in private for so long could perhaps become something meaningful for someone else.
And slowly, what began as private journals became something more. Not because I had all the answers. Not because I had fully arrived.
And that's how the book was born.