I’m Still Here

There’s honestly no place to start but here: 18 year old me would be so proud of the woman I am today. I’ve faced so many obstacles and roadblocks, and there were moments when it felt like life was determined to break me. But I didn’t let it. Somehow, I always found my way back to myself.

To be honest, the thing that saved me was my daughter.

When I look back over my life, through every dark season and painful lesson, she’s the reason I pushed forward. She’s the reason I left situations I never should’ve been in, and the reason I wanted to become better. She witnessed things no child should ever have to see and I hate that. But now, I can also see the blessing in it. One day, when she’s older, she’ll understand: Mommy got out. Mommy chose herself. Mommy chose her peace. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the most powerful thing I could ever show her.

At 18, I thought life was supposed to look a certain way. I thought I’d spend the next four years at the University of Texas at Dallas figuring out who I was, reinventing myself and I was excited to show up as my most confident, authentic version. I had this idea that college would be where I finally felt whole.

That didn’t happen.

Life took me in a different direction. I stayed home, enrolled in a local college, got my first apartment, and went to work. I met new people. I fell in love. At least, I thought I did.

Okay, yes. I did.

That boy became one of the best and worst things that ever happened to me. There are things that happened in that relationship I still can’t bring myself to talk about. Things I’ve locked away because they’re too heavy to unpack. But what I can say is he stole something from me. My early adulthood, my innocence, my sense of ease.

And yet, I still find gratitude. Because I met my devil early. I learned my hardest lessons young. I see women in their thirties and forties still tangled up in relationships that drain them, still trying to leave the kind of pain I already survived. And my God did I survive it. And I thank God I learned when I did.

My granny passed away a few months after I turned 18. She was literally everything to me: my safety net, my peace, my constant. Losing her broke me, but now I understand why God called her home when He did. If she were still here, she would’ve been my crutch. And as much as I miss her, I know that losing her forced me to grow up. It forced me to learn how to stand on my own two feet, how to work for what I needed and how to build the life I wanted.

It wasn’t easy. I moved back home more times than I can count. I made mistakes, and I learned the hard way. But sitting here now, with my daughter asleep in her room, Sunday Night Football in the background, a glass of wine in my hand, and laundry running, I feel peace. Life isn’t perfect. Nowhere near perfect. But it’s mine.

I’ve finally reached a place where I can make decisions from clarity, not chaos. I can be patient. I can think before reacting. I can breathe through hard moments instead of breaking under them.

And when I think of that, I can only say this:

The things that were meant to break me didn’t.

I’m still here.

And I’m still showing up as my best self no matter what the universe throws at me.