I have spent half of my life surviving, not living.
I gave my time, my money, my energy—everything—trying to make someone else happy.
I made sacrifices at every turn, believing love meant giving until there was nothing left of me.
But do you know what?
It didn’t make them happy.

They just took more.
More of my time.
More of my spirit.
More of my kindness.
And it was never enough—not because I wasn’t enough, but because they didn’t even know what they truly wanted.
They were chasing something that couldn’t be filled. Not with love. Not with loyalty. Not with sacrifice.

It’s taken almost a year of healing—of stepping outside the storm I lived in for over three decades—to finally see the truth:
I was sacrificing myself to save someone who didn’t want to be saved.

Yes, I’m a kind and content person.
Yes, I’ve always had dreams, ambitions, and a deep love for my work and the people around me.
But I never truly put myself first.
I blurred the line between caring and over-giving. I tried to bring healing into a marriage with someone who resisted it at every turn.

And now?
Now it’s my turn.

• My turn to dream freely.
• My turn to say “yes” to what I want.
• My turn to put my energy into creating a life that nourishes me.
• My turn to be unapologetically joyful, ambitious, peaceful, me.

I am a work in progress.
But for the first time, the progress is for me—not for someone else’s comfort or approval.

I walked away from four decades of trying, hoping, fixing, surviving.
And now I’m walking toward myself.
This chapter is mine—and it’s going to be beautiful. 💖