
02/19/2025
✨ This is for the ones who were told they were too much. The ones who had to fight just to exist. The ones who are still searching for a way out. ✨
For years, I thought I was broken. Diagnosed early, bullied relentlessly, and forced into a world that was never built for my brain. I learned pain before I learned love. I learned how to mask, how to shrink myself, how to survive in a space that never made room for me.
By 14, I had already decided I didn’t belong here. By 24, I was drowning in alcohol just to exist. By 25, I packed up my life and left—because staying meant losing myself for good.
I moved to Alaska with nothing but the hope that life could feel different. And it did. Not overnight, not in a straight line, but in slow, painful, beautiful waves of unlearning. I found healing in nature, in somatic work, in solitude, in community. I spent 10 years rebuilding the parts of me I thought were beyond repair.
And now, at 34, I can say this: I was never broken. I was never too much. I was never unworthy of love.
Neither are you.
This post isn’t about what I do. It’s about who I am and the truth I wish someone had told me sooner:
💖 You don’t have to prove your worth to exist.
💖 You don’t have to keep carrying the weight of your past.
💖 You don’t have to do this alone.
If this resonates, drop a 👾 in the comments. You are seen, you are valid, and you are so much stronger than you know.
💖 ya, mean it 👾
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