There is a quiet moment that arrives after survival a moment most people don’t talk about. It’s the space where the noise settles, the crisis ends, and life begins to stretch out in front of you in a way that feels unfamiliar.

There are identities we grow into and identities we grow because of what we’ve had to survive.

November came and went in the blink of an eye, leaving me both breathless and full. This month carried me back to my teen years, ticked off bucket list dreams, celebrated birthdays, and finally let go of doors that no longer served me.

When life breaks us, when pain or trauma hits hard, labels give us something to hold onto. They can explain the unexplainable, give our experiences meaning, and even create a sense of strength

We spend so much time healing wounds the trauma, the illness, the heartbreak but often we forget another part of the healing journey:

Some labels are spoken directly, others are delivered through silence, sighs, eye rolls, or the way someone withdraws when we show emotion.

I started blogging in 2021 with nothing more than a website, a story, and a hope a hope to raise awareness, educate, and let even one person out there feel less alone

Fixing things, healing others, healing myself, managing the chaos, holding the pieces together it became who I was. It wasn’t just something I did; it was what defined me.

If you only looked at the label chronically ill, in pain, recovering you’d think my story was predictable. Rest. Crash. Repeat