Tag: Marriage

  • The Things I Once Prayed For (And Sometimes Forget to See)

    There’s something sacred about looking around your life and realizing you’re living inside answered prayers.

    The home.

    The kids.

    The health.

    The steady love.

    The moments of peace you once thought you’d never feel.

    And yet… lately, I’ve been struggling. Not in a way that screams for help, but in that quiet, heavy way that makes you forget how far you’ve come.

    It’s not that I’m ungrateful — I am. I know how hard my husband has worked for this life. I know how much has changed. But mentally and emotionally, I’ve been going through a storm. There are days I feel lost in my own head, like I’m constantly searching for where I belong and if what I bring to the table is even seen.

    Motherhood is hard.

    Marriage is hard.

    Being a working mom is hard.

    Being a stay-at-home mom is hard.

    Trying to show up for everyone while figuring out who you are is hard.

    Lately, I’ve been diving deep into the Let Them theory by Mel Robbins — the idea that when you finally get through something big, your mind and body kind of crash. You let your guard down. You fall apart after the breakthrough.

    That hit me. Because that’s exactly where I’ve been.

    After years of pushing through survival mode, after getting sober, after building this beautiful life — I’m now sitting in the emotional release. And it’s confusing. Because why would I feel down when everything looks so good?

    But I get it now.

    It’s a letdown. A pause. A chance to process.

    Sobriety, too, has stripped away all the numbing I used to rely on. No more hiding behind a glass of wine. No more muting the shame or the self-doubt. I’m feeling everything now — and that’s powerful, but it’s also hard.

    The tears I used to cry.

    The prayers I used to whisper.

    They built the foundation of this life I’m standing in.

    I’m still healing.

    I’m still learning to love myself — especially the parts of me that I used to hide.

    And I’m still figuring out how to be proud of where I’ve been because it’s what made me the wife, mother, and hard-working woman I am today.

    Today I was listening to a podcast with Mel Robbins and Jay Shetty, and one thing really stood out:

    It’s okay to notice things in others — even to feel judgment or jealousy — but don’t let it harden you. Let it inspire you.

    That’s been a huge shift for me.

    Instead of letting someone else’s success make me feel “less than,” I’m learning to say: “If it’s possible for them, maybe it’s possible for me, too.”

    So here’s your reminder — and mine:

    You are allowed to be overwhelmed and still be grateful.

    You are allowed to grieve your past while celebrating your growth.

    You are allowed to feel it all.

    And you are never alone in that.

    The life you’re living now?

    You once prayed for it.

    Don’t forget to see it.

  • When Life Feels Heavy: A Sober Reflection

    Lately, life just feels… heavy.

    There’s been a lot going on behind the scenes—personal things that I don’t always share, not because I don’t want to, but because I’ve always been the kind of person who keeps things close when it comes to family. I’m not someone who lays it all out there, and maybe that’s why the weight of it all has felt so suffocating.

    Juggling motherhood and marriage is no joke. It’s beautiful, yes—but also exhausting, emotional, and sometimes incredibly lonely. And if I’m being totally transparent… there are moments when grabbing a beer or lighting up a cigarette crosses my mind. Not because I want to throw away all the progress I’ve made, but because the old me would have done just that. It was the easy way out, the quick fix, the numbing agent that helped me avoid facing the truth.

    But I know better now. And knowing better means choosing differently.

    The truth is, those things wouldn’t lighten the load. They’d only add to it. They never took the weight away—they just made me forget it was there for a little while. And when the buzz wore off, I was still carrying the same pain… plus the shame and regret that always followed.

    The other day, I broke. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I finally let it all out. I said things that were hard to say—truths I had been bottling up. And even though I hate conflict and never want to hurt anyone, especially the people I love, I also know that being honest is necessary for healing.

    Sober honesty is very different from drunk honesty. It’s clear. It’s raw. It’s uncomfortable. But it’s real.

    I’m learning what it means to wear my armor—the one that doesn’t come from liquid courage, but from faith, resilience, and growth. I’m learning to stand tall, to be strong, to speak up… without leaning on the crutches I once used to survive.

    I’m still working through the hurt. The letdowns. The failures. The trauma. And I won’t lie—it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do sober.

    But I believe this season of heaviness has purpose. I believe in the breakthrough that comes after the breakdown. I believe that healing requires facing the hard things head-on, not running from them. And I believe that even in the weight, there is grace.

    So today, I’m choosing to carry it differently. Not with booze. Not with smoke. But with truth, with strength, and with faith that brighter days are still ahead.

    If you’re walking through something heavy too, you’re not alone. I see you. I feel it with you. And I’m rooting for us both.

    “You don’t have to be unbreakable to be strong. You just have to keep showing up.”
    — Unknown