A Vulnerable One...
A Vulnerable One…
A Vulnerable One…
This one feels tender to write.
Not polished. Not perfect. Just honest and from my heart.
The past few years of my life have stretched me, shattered me, rebuilt me, and revealed parts of me I didn’t even know existed. And somehow, in the middle of all of that mess and pain and rebirth, I’ve landed here — grounded, peaceful, and damn proud of the woman I’ve become.
And honestly? She blows me away.
A few years ago, my life looked nothing like it does now. And to be totally transparent…nothing could have prepared me for how quickly my life would turn upside down.
The truth is:
In the past three years, I almost died.
I brought two babies into the world.
I battled postpartum struggles that swallowed me whole.
And I made the gut-wrenching decision to end my marriage — the one I once believed would last a lifetime.
I survived a high-risk pregnancy after years of infertility and loss. I survived birth. I survived the terrifying moment where you make peace with death because you have to. My body was wrecked. My hormones were chaos. My emotions were everywhere. And yet… life didn’t pause. Two tiny humans needed me. I was healing from trauma while learning how to be a mother of twins at the exact same time.
Postpartum was not gentle with me.
It was loud, hard, and relentless.
Some days I felt like I was drowning in responsibility and fear and exhaustion.
Some days I felt like I was losing myself completely. Isolated and alone.
The silver lining? Being a mother gave me a new perspective to see life through. To see people through. To see my marriage through. The journey to making the decision to end my marriage was torture.
There was so much pain. So many tears. So much heartache.
I prayed on my knees for clarity. I prayed for peace. I fought for my kids. I fought for myself.
And in the end, I chose my hard, which meant walking away from an 8 year relationship.
For myself and for my babies.
I chose peace.
I made the decision to end my marriage.
I moved into my parents’ house with two infants, a few bags, and $78 to my name.
Let me tell you — that humbles you fast.
It strips you down to your bones.
It forces you to confront the parts of yourself you’ve been avoiding.
Wondering, “how the hell did I get here?”
I spent sleepless nights crying quietly on the floor so I wouldn’t wake my kids.
I spent days navigating lawyers, bottles, nap schedules, and emotional landmines.
I was rebuilding my life and my identity at the same time.
But looking back now?
That version of me was a warrior, even though she felt so broken and lost.
In the past three years, I have…
Survived a high-risk pregnancy and traumatic birth experience.
Navigated postpartum anxiety, overwhelm, and identity loss.
Walked away from a toxic situation that was breaking me.
Started over with nearly nothing.
Faced and held the most wounded, scared parts of myself.
Built a successful business from scratch — a business that now supports women navigating their own storms.
Stayed a stable, peaceful, consistent mother to my babies through every single upheaval.
Healed my anxiety and regulated my nervous system.
Put myself first for the first time in my life.
Stopped entertaining toxic behavior or relationships.
Stopped gripping for control and started trusting myself again.
Built a foundation that feels aligned, steady, and safe.
Opened my heart to love again — something I never thought I’d be strong enough to do.
Realized that my worth comes from within, not from anyone else’s validation.
Done more inner healing than I ever believed a human could do.
My hardest seasons demanded everything from me.
They stretched me.
Challenged me.
Broke me open.
Forced me to see what actually matters in this life.
And when the storm finally cleared — because it always, eventually, does — I wasn’t the same woman anymore.
I was softer and stronger at the same time.
Clearer. Braver. Calmer.
More myself than I had ever been.
This version of me?
She’s magical.
She’s grounded.
She’s unshakeable.
Nothing is taking my peace anymore.
Nothing can make me question myself.
No more doubting whether I can “do it all.”
Because I already have… and I will continue to.
Resilience. Strength. Hope. Faith. Peace. Purpose.
These are the things that rebuilt me.
These are the things that carried me when I felt like I couldn’t keep going.
And if you’re reading this while walking through your own hard season — maybe you’re overwhelmed, maybe you’re grieving, maybe you’re rebuilding from the ground up — I want to tell you something I learned the hardest possible way:
You are not broken. You are becoming.
You are being stretched, yes.
But you are also being shaped.
You are becoming the woman who will look back one day and say, “I’m so proud of her. She kept going.”
Your storm will clear.
Your rebirth will come.
Your peace will return.
And when it does, you’ll recognize yourself again — the stronger, softer, wiser version of you.
It’s impossible to see the value and growth while you are deep in the trenches. I can promise you that there will be a day where you can look back and see the value in all that you have faced.
Keep going.
One step, one breath, one day at a time.
I’m rooting for you.
Always.
E