In the midst of remembering all that I’ve lived through, I’ve forgotten to actually live.
I recently turned 33. Growing older used to feel terrifying — not because of age, but because of how many years I felt I had already lost. I survived my childhood, endured my teenage years, and stumbled through early adulthood. I grew up too fast. I had to.
When I was talking to someone recently, I told them that this birthday feels different. I want it to be a rebirth. A reset. A conscious beginning.
For the first time, I’m starting to imagine beautiful things. Not just the life I escaped from, but the life I want to create. I’m not losing my youth. I’m growing into a version of myself that finally feels like home.
The best things in my life haven’t happened yet.
There’s love to be discovered, the kind that grows deeper with time.
There’s the possibility of becoming a mother, of raising children with awareness and tenderness.
There’s meaningful work ahead, work that feels aligned with who I am.
Even thinking about these things brings tears to my eyes. Because for so long, I couldn’t. I didn’t dare to hope. It felt too risky. Too far away. Too unsafe.
But now, I do hope. I do dream.
Yes, I’ve lost a lot. Yes, trauma shaped my path. But it didn’t break me. I’ve lived. I’ve gathered stories and strength. And I know, deep down, that the version of me who walked through all that darkness has earned her joy. Not as a reward, but as a right.
I’m proud of myself. Truly proud. That’s something I haven’t said often enough.
Will I still get triggered? Yes. Will fear visit me again? Probably. These things don’t disappear overnight. They live in the body. They resurface. But now I know how to face them.
I used to hope I’d one day forget everything that happened. But I’ve learned that forgetting doesn’t free you. It only delays the return. So I’m done running. This happened. These are the cards I was dealt. And still, I’m here. And still, I get to live a beautiful life.
Today’s Truth:
I’m not healing to erase the past.
I’m healing to remember the future I still get to have.
This is my rebirth — not in spite of what I’ve lived through, but because I chose to keep living.
fortuitouspurpose 