The Moment I Decided to Come Back to Myself

Journal Entry – January 29, 2021

“I literally forgot I had a soul. I lost me.”

I want her back so badly — but where do I start? What do I do?

I have no idea, but living like this is no longer an option.

Every day feels like a loop — wake up, get everyone ready, work, drive to activities, cook, clean, sleep, and repeat.

This isn’t what I asked for.

This is so far from what I want.

I am so tired. So broken. My bones ache. I can’t remember the last time I felt joy — I’m not even sure I’d recognize it if it showed up.

I used to have goals. I used to be strong, determined, and disciplined.

People would ask me how I did it all, and I wore that like a badge of honour.

But the truth is, I was holding it all together like the glue nobody sees — invisible, uncredited, essential.

Even glue dries out if it’s never sealed back up.

Journal Entry – February 10, 2021

I woke up before the house today. I’m ready to reclaim my mornings.

It’s still dark, and so quiet. My meditation was powerful — I heard so clearly:

“You can’t keep living like this.”

I had no idea what I needed, but I knew I wasn’t doing it — whatever it was.

The truth is, my world had completely fallen apart a few weeks earlier. But on this day i realized, maybe healing isn’t one big decision. Maybe it’s a thousand tiny ones made quietly, in the dark, before anyone else wakes up.

Journal Entry – February 17, 2021

I started working out today. I woke up and knew I had to move my body. I remembered what it used to feel like — how grounding it is for me to push, to sweat, to breathe through something hard and realize:

"I’m still here. I can still do this."

I cried at the end of it. This time the tears were not from a feeling of hurt or betrayal, these tears were pure relief. From the feeling of finding a tiny piece of myself again. She is still there, phew.

For You Reading This Right Now

Maybe you see yourself somewhere in these words. Maybe you feel that same ache. Maybe you’ve been carrying the entire world on your shoulders for so long that you’ve forgotten what your own heartbeat sounds like.

Know this — you don’t need a plan.

Start with a walk. Start with a glass of water. Start with one breath that belongs entirely to you.

The version of you who feels strong again — she’s still in there. She isn’t lost, just buried, waiting for proof that you’ll come back for her.

Something inside you already knows it’s time — to take up space, to move, to feel, to remember who the hell you are.

You don’t need to do it all. Just one small step today.

That’s where it begins. That’s where you become StrongHER.

Your Invitation to Come Back Home

Take a moment today — just one — to check in with her, the version that’s been waiting. Write her a note. Go for a walk. Step outside and whisper, “I’m coming back.”

And if you’re ready to do it with a community of women walking this same road, join us in the next StrongHER Challenge.

Because you don’t have to do it alone anymore. Xo, LB