Journey Back To Me
- Jul 26
- 4 min read
I recently took a few weeks off from writing to do some traveling. I went on an absolutely epic trip back to the region where I was born—visiting family, soaking in the roots, and slowly finding myself again. It was deeply healing, filling up a cup that had been running empty for far too long.
The best part? I did it alongside my son. He’s an amazing 10-year-old who is as eager to live and experience this world as I once was—and as I am discovering I am thrilled to be doing once again.
Maybe it’s typical for a woman in her 40s to start taking stock of her life and reevaluating priorities. I certainly don't feel like the headspace I'm in is unique.
For the past two decades, I have dedicated myself to being a caregiver—supporting loved ones with their needs, their comfort, and their dreams. For the most part, I was happy in that role. I have always had a servant’s heart; I thrived on doing for others.
But somewhere along the way, I lost sight of what I truly wanted. I forgot how to be myself.
Over an emotional wine-and-vent session recently, a dear friend put it more precisely than I ever could: I had spent years without the luxury of being able to look forward to the future for myself. Especially during the precious time I had with August, necessity demanded my full attention go towards him. But he is gone now and my oldest son is growing more independent, which grants me the ability to start looking forward to the future for me! It is both an exciting and terrifying opportunity.
Looking back, it took falling into the deepest, darkest place I had ever been this past year to finally wake up. Emerged from that dark room, I am choosing to see the beauty of my life and all that is in it—and with that choice came a massive change in perspective.
I had to learn the hard way that living solely for others is completely unsustainable.
If I’m being honest, maybe I adopted the caregiver identity to avoid certain hard truths. Serving others was the easy way out; it allowed me to avoid facing the fact that, aside from becoming a mother, I didn't actually know what I wanted for my own life.
Following a grief retreat I attended in late winter, I made a conscious choice to focus on answering that question. I began allowing myself to be "selfish" for the first time in my entire existence.
Here is the paradox I discovered: when you are "selfish" in the right way—doing things specifically for your physical health and mental well-being—it actually deeply benefits the people closest to you.
For 15 to 20 years, I thought focusing on my own needs would rob my loved ones. I was wrong. By suppressing who I am, I am actually robbing them of my true light, my potential, and my unbuffered joy.
When you condition the people around you to expect endless giving, setting a new boundary is uncomfortable. I've written before about losing people I thought were friends simply because I chose to start prioritizing my needs. Even for the friends and family who stick around, it’s a difficult adjustment period.
To keep from falling back into old patterns, I have to be intentional every single day. Now, when someone asks me for help, I force myself to pause:
• I don't answer immediately.
• I reflect on the request.
• I ask myself: Is jumping to their call truly beneficial, or am I slipping back into the habit that drained my happiness?
It would be easy for me look back on this chapter of my life and regret giving so much to others and neglecting myelf, but living with regret is the biggest waste of time and energy. I refuse to give regret any space in my world. Despite every challenge, I have lived a blessed life. Every single hill and valley made me who I am today, so wishing things were different is pointless. Instead, I am taking the lessons from the past to make the path ahead infinitely more enjoyable.
I am finally on a journey to figure out what I want—not living out someone else’s dream, but asking what my own dreams actually look like. Allowing myself to dream again has certainly caused some speed bumps within my family dynamic. Reclaiming your independence forces new conversations. But I am genuinely excited to pursue the things I want—things I know I am capable of achieving—and to see how my dreams will eventually blend with the visions of those I love.
My Challenge to You
If you are reading this and feeling a quiet echo of your own life in my words, here is your reminder: It is okay to be selfish when it comes to rediscovering the true you.
You are not robbing anyone by shining brightly. Remember to take time for yourself, for your own well being. Carve out space for the things that bring you joy, that fill up your cup. Take that trip you’ve been putting off. Go get lost by a river. Climb through caves. Jump into a freezing mountain lake or the ocean like I did this month. Remember what your dreams look like—and give yourself permission to chase them again. A happy and fulfilled you will benefit everyone who has the privilege of being a part of your life.
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