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When I’m trekking through the middle of turbulence, it is difficult to envision the beauty, or blessings, after the storm.
Despite all the work I have done to arrive in a place of joy and contentment, there is still so much more to be considered. There is still much more to be done. Unfolding never stops, no matter how successful we become, how full we feel, or how at ease we may believe ourselves to be. There is always a next step, another way, and more to absorb.
The goal for me is to continue learning how to dance in the rain, even if it’s mixed with tears as I learn my way.
As I mature, shift, and take shape, I am finding new ways to navigate the valleys of suffering that are predestined to occur.
Being alone showed me that I could shed, release, and outgrow anything, including my old ways and bad habits, that didn’t serve me well.
Changing meant I had to start with being honest about who I was and who I wanted to be.
change required being brave enough to let go and vulnerable enough to start over, even if that meant trying more than once or twice to get it right.
in order to make space for healing, all things must be rooted in love, and not fear.
I don’t know what’s worse; not being able to breathe and parent, or not being able to love and parent.
Trauma or not, I had to make the effort to rise from the ashes and soar.
Self-love feels like looking yourself in the eye, taking a deep breath, and saying: I see you.
Hold your hurt, rest in your pain more often, stop running from fear. Don’t be afraid to touch and face what scares you the most. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak. Collapse into vulnerability; that is where you will find resilience. Take care of the soft and tender spots of your grief and process and bandage them up slowly.
Rushing to rebuild won’t make you heal any faster.
An immense amount of magic can be found in the chaotic moments we encounter.
Hurt happens, but so does healing. Admitting that things aren’t always going to be fine allows me to revel in the moments that are. The sunrises of my life deserve to be embraced, even on the days I feel blinded by the other
stuff going on around me. Life doesn’t stop when we grieve. Learning to soothe our suffering—choosing how to move through our pain—that is where the prize is.
Life won’t be what we wish it to be; no amount of wishing and waiting will change that.
And that when we truly care, we make time for who
and what we...
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Holding on to what could’ve been doesn’t change what was, and expecting anything different to manifest from things I cannot change only creates a dent in the power I am attempting to stand in. The greatest lesson I’ve adopted from time well spent—and time wasted—is that I am the gardener of my destiny.
No matter how ocean-deep the pain has been, time has never failed to offer clarity, perspective, and a sense of peace.
Time isn’t stopping or slowing down, and how we invest and spend it is almost an art form.
I don’t want to leave this world with a bitter taste on my tongue, despite many of my moments not being sweet.
To think back and know that I almost didn’t make it here blows my mind. I was a sad girl, a lost girl, a misguided girl, who had to choose between life and death. I went from wanting to hang myself to choosing to help myself. I went from being silenced to screaming my truth from the rooftops without feeling humiliated. I went from being not enough to more than enough. I learned so much about preparing for what comes after the rain through surrendering. Resisting kept me small. Grudges hushed my voice. Pain held me captive and made the little girl in me weep from wishing my
life was different. But despite the shifts, changes, and challenges, I decided that honoring who I am and where I’ve been deserves to be celebrated.
believed that in order to become whole, I needed someone else to put my pieces together.
While life is not meant to be done alone, it’s important to make room and hold space for intimate moments that don’t require company and praise to press forward.
It is no one else’s job to make me feel whole and good—only I can do that.
Being with him felt effortless; it made sense.
At a point in time, a lot of my love life was rooted in low self-esteem, searching for belonging in the wrong places, and trying to find self-love in the hearts of others.
We authentically cared about one another and I think neither of us wanted to mess anything up.
you don’t possess people, you experience them.
Trust is trust, near or far.
I didn’t feel worthy of love because, deep down, loving my entire self felt like a task I couldn’t quite complete.
Love requires vulnerability.
Believing that I was more than deserving of love opened up a new way of life for me.
The climb to becoming was slow and at times unsteady, but well worth it now that I am on the other side.
Facing my healing head-on has been a point of contention and growth that I’ve learned to find gratitude in.
Pieces from my past still sting, but I wouldn’t have found my light without their undeniable presence.
The yearning for what I didn’t have motivated me to become whole and full in ways that were once daunting and unfamiliar to me. For
Rewriting my story and fine-tuning my narrative was up to me.
Becoming who I wanted to be, and not adhering to what negative and external voices were saying, taught me how to stand in my power.
Today, I take pride in my process. I trust my path. And I am proud of myself for becoming who I craved to be.
Making the radical decision to choose myself was a daunting and delightful task all at once.
Deciding that I mattered and was worthy changed my life.
Becoming my true self was brutal, but the process brought out the beauty in my life that I ached for. It made room for more love and less judgment, more self-belief and less fear.
Society sends the message that women are to bend until broken and
then find ways to get back up again while in pieces.
How do I love someone this intensely and not trust him with my heart in the same breath?
Healing my heart had to begin with me if I wanted things to move forward.
