12/30/2025
I’ve never really known how to celebrate my birthday…
For a long time, it felt safer to make the day small than to risk disappointment, especially being chronically ill. Loss, grief, pain, chronic illness, and trauma have a way of teaching you not to expect too much.
This time last year, my world was incredibly different. I had lost my home, my stability, and nearly everything I owned. It was just me and my cats, trying to survive quietly. I carried so much of that pain silently and alone. I asked for very little—just a safe place, food in the fridge, and the ability to keep going.
I sold everything. I watched my entire life walk out the door piece by piece, and it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever witnessed. In losing almost everything, I learned what actually matters.
I learned how little I need, and how much strength I carry. I learned how to love myself in a quieter, steadier way; protecting my peace, by choosing myself, and showing up even when it’s hard. To never take my mental health for granted. To choose my health—mentally, physically, emotionally above everything.
I’ve lost friends. I’ve lost family. I’ve lost versions of myself. I’ve lost the body I once knew. I’ve endured surgeries, chronic pain, and long, dark stretches where simply staying felt like an act of courage.
I’ve learned that peace is not boring—it’s sacred. In a world where chronic illness is constant chaos, I do not take stillness for granted. I love the quiet now. The books. The sitcoms. The crafting. The small, intentional life I built.
Even though being alone can still feel scary sometimes, it brings me a kind of peace I never want to lose again.
Thirty-five years of lessons shaped by grief, pain, trauma, illness, resilience, and an unshakeable will to keep going. Thirty-five years of learning how to choose myself. Thirty-five years of becoming someone I’m deeply proud of and someone I’m still growing and learning about every single day.
Here’s to 35 years. 35 chapters. 35 lessons.
Here’s to choosing me.🤎🎂✨
