Today was one of those days when everything seems to fall apart. I felt sad, discouraged, and helpless — as if the whole world had turned against me. I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically, and my thoughts have been heavy all day. My heart is hurting. Physically and emotionally.
But through all that darkness, there was one thing that gave me strength: the thought of you — my readers, my community. Just knowing you’re out there, that there are people who understand me, who have connected with what I’ve written over the years — that thought alone got me through today.
It’s strange how powerful that can be. You might not even realize the impact you’ve had on me, how much your presence, your messages, your quiet companionship across distance and time have meant. You have carried me through more moments than I can count.
Over the years of writing this blog, I’ve met wonderful people — people who have changed my life. Many of you, I never would have met without this space. You’ve reminded me that even when life feels unbearable, connection still exists. That kindness still exists. That hope still exists. And truly, that’s what saved me today.
Because today, I also realized something painful. My marriage can’t go on this way. I begged my husband to do something, to meet me halfway, to show me he still cared — and he did too little and too late. It broke something inside me. This isn’t about strength or control; it’s about love, presence, and being seen.
We may have to move out of our home, and I don’t even know if I can imagine starting over again with him. Deep down, I know I have to make a choice — to stay or to walk away.
I don’t have the strength to talk about it with friends anymore. I’ve told the story too many times already. But when I think about you — the people who’ve been with me through this blog — something inside me softens. Sometimes I look up your names on the internet, on YouTube, follow what you’re doing, see your lives unfolding. And it fills me with quiet joy and hope.
I see you and I know that the world still holds good people.
So thank you — truly — to every one of you who’s been there through all these years.
Even when I couldn’t be strong, you helped me stay alive inside.
Maybe my “career” as a strong woman ends today.
Or maybe this is where the real story begins — the one of a woman who knows what it means to be broken, but still chooses to stay open to the world.
