I’m So Scared
The funny thing is, when I look back at my life, EVERYTHING I’m proud of started with fear.
Taking care of the body, mind, and soul.
The funny thing is, when I look back at my life, EVERYTHING I’m proud of started with fear.
Why are we so uncomfortable letting women simply experience joy without auditing it?
Motherhood changed my body, yes.
But it also changed my priorities.
Sometimes “she just needs to heal” becomes a way to dismiss discomfort that actually deserves to be acknowledged.
Sometimes “we’re all adults” becomes permission to move in ways that lack tenderness.
For some of us, reading was survival. It was the soft place we fell into when life felt too loud. It was the pause button we didn’t have in real life. It was the only place where things made sense… even when they didn’t.
Self-awareness without behavior change is just a nicer way of being a jerk. And yeah, it’s unfair that you have to repaint someone else’s mess. It’s unfair that you didn’t start with a clean canvas. It’s unfair that some people got loving homes and you got… lessons. But staying unfair forever? That doesn’t fix anything. That just makes two messes.
Wanting is easy. Wanting lets you stay where you are while romanticising where you could be. Deciding, on the other hand, is inconvenient. It asks you questions you can’t ignore. Where is this going? Is this working? Am I just busy, or am I actually moving forward?
“Hey, can I vent for five minutes?” is a beautiful question. “Let me trauma-dump on you while you’re making dinner” is not. I am no longer the free therapist for people who refuse to help themselves. I love you, but I love my nervous system more.
2025 taught me how to choose myself (my faith, my health, my family, my work, my time). It was the year I learned the difference between hearing my own voice and listening to it. 2026 doesn’t feel like a beginning as much as it feels like a continuation. A settling. A deep, long exhale held for years, finally released. This is what peace looks like now.
We speak of heartbreak in the language of romance. The shattered trust, the faded promises, the aching silence where connection once lived. I have learned, through a curriculum of disappointment, a sacred and non-negotiable rule: I now “date” my friends before I make them my friends.