Lately I’ve been sitting with my talents, my skills, and the things I genuinely enjoy. For years I’ve worked based on what I had to do, not necessarily what lit me up. But now, as I get clearer about where I ultimately want to be in the long run, something unexpected is happening:

I’m finally figuring out where to start.

A big part of this shift came from watching my 19-year-old son prepare to move out. It hit me hard, a not in a sad way, but in a reflective one. I’ve always been a mom and I always will be, but this reminded me that one day all my kids will grow up and build lives of their own. And when that day fully comes, who will I be outside of motherhood?

From the moment I found out I was pregnant at a young age, my entire life became about making enough money to care for my child. Survival mode kicked in, and I stayed there for years. Every job, every sacrifice, every long day was about providing. And while I’m proud of the way I showed up, there’s a truth I never admitted to myself:

I stopped doing what I loved because I didn’t know how to be me and a mother at the same time.

Somewhere along the journey of motherhood, I put my dreams, creativity, and passions on the shelf. I don’t remember as much of my son’s early years as I wish I did , not because I didn’t care, but because I was tired, overwhelmed, and constantly trying to hold life together.

But now, 19 years later (and with three more kids), something in me is shifting. I’m realizing that being myself , fully, unapologetically, creatively, is actually part of being a good mom. My joy teaches them joy. My courage teaches them courage. My willingness to try teaches them that their own dreams are worth pursuing.

Doing what I love isn’t selfish.
It’s necessary.

If I’m happy, fulfilled, and aligned, I show up better. I live with more patience, more softness, more investment in the moments that matter. And I’m finally starting to believe that doing what I love will eventually open a door I’ve been waiting on, the one I’ve been too afraid or too busy to knock on.

Do I have regrets? Absolutely.
But I don’t dwell on them, because I’m here now.

And tomorrow isn’t promised.
So I want to be proud of what I’m doing while I am here.

This new chapter is about trusting where I want to finish, and letting that clarity guide the steps I take today. It’s about rediscovering myself while still being a mother. It’s about giving my kids permission to become who they want by watching me become who I am.

I’m starting now, with intention, with hope, and with the understanding that it’s never too late to build a life that feels like mine.