Sometimes choosing whatās right for your peace feels like punishment. It can feel heavy. Lonely. Even wrong. Especially when itās tied to people you care about. But you have to remind yourself why you chose distance, why you stopped explaining, why you let go. If something or someone brings more chaos than calm, more self-doubt than self-worth, what are you really holding on to?ā
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Community is supposed to feel like safety. Like home. If you have to shrink to stay, if youāre constantly second-guessing your worth just to be accepted, then thatās not love. Thatās survival. And you deserve more than just making yourself tolerable to people who canāt hold space for your fullness. Thatās not living. Thatās erasing yourself.
By now, Iām convinced that your soul knows when a season is coming to an end.
I never thought Iād be starting over at 36.
Grief, sadness, and depression held me for 1,706 days.
Stagnation. Procrastination. Complete hibernation from the version of me I once knew.
And yet, in the midst of all of that, my lifeās work still stayed at the centre of my mind; every morning and every night.
I poured my soul into 2025, and with intention, I did everything needed to reclaim my life.
I survived the lowest of lows, and to be honest, rock bottom was the most freedom Iāve ever experienced.
Thereās no urgency, almost everyone has written you off, and essentially, itās just you vs. you.
The silence is loud. Youāre faced with the reality of who youāve become, and all you have is time, time to fix it.
Through all of these experiences, Iāve gained a deeper insight into life and collected so much wisdom.
I am of service, and I have so much to share. My spirit feels 100 years old.
I spoke to my elder Millie last night. Weāre both Scorpios. Sheās turning 93 next week.
She laughed when I told her that I feel like my life is over and reminded me that she has 56 years on me.
She said, āStarting over is just an invitation to return to the root of who youāve become.ā
Itās nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, itās the complete opposite. What a privilege it is to be able to start over.
Weāve been led to believe that starting over is synonymous with failure,
āØand because of that, many of us carry such deep levels of shame that weād rather stay in positions weāve outgrown than embrace the vulnerability of rebuilding something new.
So yeah, chipped nails, dry lips still showing up.
To anyone reading this: life can be rebuilt after loss, after trauma, after convincing ourselves that we arenāt worthy of experiencing it to its fullest extent.
Even if weāve strayed light-years away from where weāre meant to be, we still have the ability to return home to ourselves.
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