08/14/2026
There were years I cried in bathrooms because it was the only place I could fall apart privately.
Years when my heart felt like it was tearing itself out of my body, and I still got up, went to work, raised children, paid bills, and did whatever came next.
I thought I was surviving.
And I was.
But somewhere inside all of that survival, I was also building.
I was learning what I would no longer accept.
I was learning how to stay when things were hard without abandoning myself.
I was learning that peace can feel unfamiliar when chaos has been home.
And slowly, the life I once couldn’t imagine started showing up.
Work I’m proud of.
Family.
Laughter.
Ridiculous nonsense.
And getting to know someone emotionally before throwing my cat down some empty hallway and hoping it sticks the landing. Because apparently growth can coexist with absolutely terrible metaphors. 😂
I didn’t arrive here in one brave moment.
I built it in thousands of ordinary ones.
And maybe that’s the part I understand now:
This is what I was walking toward when I thought I was only surviving.
Pull up a chair.
— Gangy.
