Relatable Words Blog

There was a day when the weight of it all nearly broke me, when getting out of bed felt impossible and hope seemed like a distant memory. Yet in that darkness, something small, a whisper inside, a reminder that I was still here, pushed me forward. I realized survival wasn't enough. I had to choose to live, to breathe, to rise. That was the day I found my will to go on.

This is not easy to write. But it’s time. For years, I carried the weight of my silence like a secret chained to my soul. I was raped. And I was abused. And for a long time, I said nothing. I buried it deep, thinking if I didn’t speak it, maybe it wouldn’t define me. But silence doesn’t heal wounds. It just lets them fester in the dark.

Life has a way of throwing us into unexpected plot twists – the kind that leave us disoriented and questioning everything we thought we knew. My divorce was one of those twists. It wasn’t just the end of a marriage – it was the unraveling of the person I thought I was. But as painful as it was, my divorce became the catalyst for the most important journey I’ve ever taken – the journey back to me.