When I think back to my childhood, I can’t help but smile. I was lucky enough to grow up in a home filled with love, laughter, and the kind of care that made me feel like I could take on the world. My parents gave me a wonderful upbringing—one that instilled in me a deep sense of security and a belief that anything was possible. There were long summer days spent riding bikes with my friends, evenings filled with the warmth of family dinners, and nights when my dreams were full of possibilities.
I was a happy kid, and I carried that sense of joy and wonder into my teenage years and twenties. Life had its bumps, like any young adult experiences, but I held on to that childlike spirit. I still remember the feeling of excitement every time I discovered something new about the world. Whether it was a new hobby, a new friend, or a new idea, I embraced it with the same sense of curiosity I had as a child. That spirit of discovery, of living fully and authentically, stayed with me for many years.
And then, I grew up. I got married, and began a family. For years, my life was centered around the joy of raising two amazing children. Becoming a mother was like finding the most meaningful work I could ever imagine. Every day, I poured my heart into guiding them, teaching them, and trying my best to raise them into good humans. I wanted them to know how to be kind, how to think for themselves, how to dream big, and how to face adversity with resilience.
My children became my world. Watching them grow, learn, and take their first steps toward their own independence is both beautiful and bittersweet. I often thought about the world I was building for them—a world that I hoped would be better than my own, filled with love, laughter, and hope.
But life, as it sometimes can, threw me a curveball.
The breakdown of my marriage was the hardest thing I’ve ever faced. It’s not something I talk about often, but it was a long process of emotional and mental unraveling. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment when things started to fall apart, but I can tell you this: when you’ve given your all to something, it’s devastating when it starts to slip through your fingers.
For a while, I didn’t know how to cope. I felt like I was losing everything—my sense of self, my sense of safety, my home, and the life I had built. The weight of it all was overwhelming. But I did what I had always done: I kept going.
I had to dig deep. I had to keep showing up, even when it felt like everything was falling apart. My children needed me. I couldn’t let them see me break, even though I was broken. They needed to see that life can be hard, but you don’t stop fighting. You don’t stop loving. You don’t stop being the person they can lean on.
So, I fought. I fought to stay strong for them. I fought to be the kind of parent who could model resilience and perseverance, even when it felt like the world was against me. I fought to show them that life is not always fair, but it’s still a beautiful gift. I fought through sleepless nights, through financial struggles, through the grief of the breakdown of the only home my children had ever known.
There were sacrifices—so many sacrifices. I gave up the life I thought I wanted, the life I had worked so hard to build. I gave up on the place that held so many memories, so that my children could have the chance to rebuild their own lives. We started over, and that was hard. So hard. But there was a quiet strength in those moments, a strength I didn’t even know I had, and I kept moving forward.
No one saw the countless hours I spent making things work behind the scenes, the nights when I had to hold myself together so that my kids wouldn’t see how tired I was, how scared I was, how much pain I felt. But through it all, I kept going. I had to. For them.
I kept telling myself that life wasn’t easy, but it was still good. It was a life filled with love, compassion, and all the riches one could ask for. Sure, I had lost a lot—my stability, some of my old dreams—but I had gained so much more. I had gained resilience, a deeper understanding of my own strength, and the most incredible gift of all: my children, who still look at me with the same wide-eyed wonder I had when I was young.
My kids are growing into kind, thoughtful, forward-thinking humans, and that is my greatest accomplishment. They may never fully understand the struggles I’ve gone through, but I hope they learn from my actions that even in the darkest times, there’s always a way forward. You don’t give up. You fight. You love. And you live as fully as you can, even when the road is hard.
As I turn 55 today, I look back at my life with gratitude, even for the tough times. They shaped me into who I am today but also look forward to the next chapter and all it has to bring my life. Yes, life has been a rollercoaster, but it has been a ride worth taking. I’ve loved, laughed freely, and learned a lot. I still hold on to that childlike spirit from my childhood, that spirit of curiosity and joy, because it’s the thing that keeps me going when life gets hard.
And if there’s one thought I want to leave my children, friends and family with, it’s this: no matter how difficult life may get, never lose your sense of wonder. Never stop loving. Never stop fighting. Because the best parts of life are still ahead of you. You just have to keep going, one step at a time.
So Happy Birthday to me! 55 feels like such a great place to be—full of wisdom, growth, and exciting possibilities. Looking back, I’m amazed at how far I’ve come. Life hasn’t always been easy, but it’s taught me that it’s not about having everything you want—it’s about making the most of what you’ve got and realizing, every single day, how rich you are in life. I’m excited for all the new adventures, friendships, and memories that lie ahead. I can’t wait to embrace them and share them with you all!!
Here’s to 55 and beyond!!
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