That doesn’t mean I never struggle. I still have days where the weight of the past sneaks up on me. One of my therapists once diagnosed me with Borderline Personality Disorder, and while that’s something I will always live with, I’ve come to accept that it doesn’t define me.
Still, I have my bad days.
There are moments where I don’t even feel like myself — where emotions take over and I react in ways that don’t align with the person I truly am. In those moments, it’s like a switch flips. And when I come back down and find clarity again, I’m often left with guilt and embarrassment, especially when I think about how I may have treated my husband or my daughters. That part never gets easy.
But I’ve learned some important things along the way — about myself, about healing, and about being human.
When those moments happen now, I try to pause and give myself grace. I take deep breaths. I step away when I need to. I’ve found that journaling helps. So does talking it out —whether that’s with my husband, a select few friends, my mom, or even just myself in a quiet space, praying to God. I remind myself that progress isn’t about never messing up again; it’s about coming back to myself faster and with more awareness than before.
One of the most powerful things I’ve learned is that healing is not a destination. It’s a lifelong process. There’s no final moment where everything is perfect. There are just more good days, more tools in my toolbox, and more self-love than I had before.
If you’re reading this and you’re still in the thick of it, please hear me when I say: it does get better. It’s not instant, and it’s not linear — but healing is possible. You are not broken. You are not your diagnosis. You are not your worst moments. You are worthy of love, forgiveness, and peace — especially from yourself.
Some days I still struggle, but I also smile more. I laugh more. I’m more present. I keep showing up — for myself, for my family, and for the life I want to build.
And that, to me, is healing.
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