April 18, 2026

One year ago today, my life abruptly changed trajectories. I began walking one of the most excruciating, revealing, quantum and transformational paths I have experienced in this lifetime. At the time, I knew that I was at a choice point, I could either continue down the path I had been walking and live in a comfortable, yet surprisingly lonely life or I could step forward into the unknown and follow the quiet calling of my soul that whispered, and nudged me in a new direction.

I think outside looking in, it was a surprise to people and the change felt abrupt. There were judgements and whispers that this was a huge mistake, how could I end such a good relationship, he was a keeper, I am crazy for not staying. Those outside reflections were mirrors of my own doubts, questions, and regrets but I had perspective; I was both inside and outside my own story and knew that a house with nice siding can still hide extreme cases of dry rot. What was rotting was not safety, security, kindness, laughter, shared adventures, or generosity. Conflict was rare, there was trust and freedom, and in so many ways, this was a beautiful expression of love.

The problem was, I had to carve out pieces of myself to fit into the container of the relationship. The me that was growing, evolving, expanding and discovering had to be condensed into consumable sounds bites, that fit parameters that refused to expand. There wasn’t space for this expanded version of me, she was relegated to the title of 2.0 and left in a container in the corner while the comfortable 1.0 version of me was the active participant in the relationship.

That gap of who I was becoming versus, who I had been stretched tight until the choice point could no longer be ignored. This moment had been coming for years, and I had been actively avoiding it until I couldn’t avoid it any longer. The choice was, I move forward and step into discovering me living up to my full expression or I stay but staying would mean that my blooming gifts and awareness would shut down, and I would fold into myself, and my light would slowly dim. One choice would leave one person broken hearted, while the relationship slowly starved and quietly died. The other choice would leave two people broken hearted but released them quickly into freedom and spaces where life could meet them in ways the current life never could. I knew I would regret not saying yes to my full expression, but I also knew it would be a heavy cost and the choice felt impossible, until one day it didn’t.

I chose truth over comfort, and it was the hardest decision I have ever made. I didn’t slam the door, I asked him to join me on this new path, and he said, “no.” It was not a no out of malice, it was a no out of capacity. It was clean, and we remain friends today and for that I am grateful.

I’m here, one year later, more sovereign, more expressive, less fearful and have a collection of stories and experiences that some might believe deserve to land me in grippy sock jail. It would be a lie to say there aren’t days I wish I could return to my old life, especially on the days when the liminal becomes long, my human grows lonely, and the path goes dark. My curiosity compels me forward, something in me says, “there is more, just keep moving forward and trust that you will be met.” Sometimes I move gracefully and sometimes I move with tears, cussing, and cursing this strange life that is mine.

What has shifted recently is the endless releasing, the healing, the waiting and I have entered my season of growing my seeds and building my life. Some days the progress is so slow. I often first have to make the bricks that will become the foundation of my new life. Other days, I get a pleasant surprise, an invite to co-create, a call from a friend that I thought was lost, an inspiration for a creative expression, or even something simple like a feeling so deep of peace and love that I know I’ll be ok.

I didn’t want today to pass without me pausing to write about it. To acknowledge the brave woman I was, this day one year ago, and to be grateful for her courage to choose truth over comfort. I also want to honor the woman who stands in the liminal space, not having answers but stands even when she wants to crumble and retreat. Life is a slow unfolding, my impatient side wanted a huge turn around, Golden Era landing all in twelve months scenario and that is not the case. I look at the tender growth just starting to emerge through the soil, and I slow down to see that life is growing, things are changing and I am in the middle of my story. I am living and expressing from my authenticity. Not always boldly, not always perfectly, not always consistently but a slow unfolding of letting me discover the facets of me that I had hidden away to, “fit in,” yet turn out to be the most interesting and beautiful pieces of me.

I let myself sit a moment in gratitude: gratitude that I made it this far, gratitude that the hardest days of this transition are done, gratitude for hope, gratitude for the tiny bit of green starting to poke up from what felt like barren soil. If I could reach back one year ago to that me, crumpled in her bed, sobbing, wondering if she made the worst mistake of her life, I would hold her tight, run my hand over her head and hair, and whisper to her, “you aren’t alone in this walk. I’m here with you every step of the way, we will get through this, and I promise you, the sun will shine again, the plants will grow and bloom and eventually, yes eventually, even love will return.”