The Weight Is Real, But So Is the Woman Carrying It

There are moments when you realize you’ve outgrown your life. Not in a dramatic way. It’s subtle like when your favorite jeans fit just a little more snug than the last time you wore them. Or, like for me, noticing the car that was once my greatest joy and treat to myself barely fits everything I need to function in a day, or realizing it’s time to stop being the family chauffeur and let my kids step into their own. Small things. But they do add up. And when they do, your spirit starts to stir before your mind catches up. I felt that stirring. If you’ve been watching my vlogs on YouTube, you already know I said a growth season was coming. And now here we are.

I wish I could tell you I accepted that and then gracefully floated into this new season on a cloud like I had it all figured out. That’s not what happened. Not even close. What happened is all hell is breaking loose and in the midst of it all, I’m navigating how to best take care of me.

I’ve felt it in my spirit for a while now. A pull. A call to my next level. And if you know me, you know that puts me in an interesting place because one of the things I’ve worked hardest on in my adult life is being present… actively enjoying the season I’m in rather than rushing toward the next one. I’ve worked my entire adult life to get to this space. So to finally be here, to finally be in a season I’ve asked for, and to simultaneously feel the call to move forward… that’s not a tension that’s easy to sit in, but I’ve done enough work on myself to hold it without falling apart. Learning to hold both of those feelings at the same time has been one of the quiet victories of my growth journey.

Back to the call for growth. I couldn’t ignore it. When your spirit is being called to move, you feel it whether you’re ready or not.

What was different about this time is that the call didn’t come with dread. Usually when I’m transitioning into a new season I’m only aware of the discomfort as it happens. It’s always the first signal. Feeling out of place in rooms that once held me in comfort and safety, feeling less connected to people I once thought I couldn’t live without, feeling like I had outgrown spaces, people and situations that I once didn’t feel worthy to hold. But this time the initial feeling was excitement. A knowing. Like something good was coming and my spirit recognized it before my mind could catch up. I had no idea the path  would look anything like this, but I think that excitement is exactly why I’m able to remain levelheaded in a situation that could have completely shattered me. I know what the call felt like and I trust where it’s taking me.

Let me explain.

Recently our family received a bipolar diagnosis for my son that, for a moment, turned my entire world upside down. I’m going to protect some of the details around this diagnosis because this story isn’t mine alone. Something I’ve always been intentional about as a mother who shares her experiences publicly is allowing my kids a say in how they show up in my content. Their stories belong to them. I respect their privacy and I honor their autonomy so what you’ll get from me is only what’s mine to share. My experience. My navigation. My feelings. The rest isn’t my story to tell. But what is mine to tell is what it feels like to be the mother in the middle of it. To be the one who has to hold herself together while advocating, navigating, processing, and somehow still keeping her own life moving forward at the same time.

And while all of this was happening, my community watched me go on a wellness date with one of my good friends. We played tennis, we talked about the importance of having people around you who can make sure your cup is never empty. We talked about the importance of women having our own identities, our own outlets, our own ways to release pressure. What they didn’t know is that I was vlogging all of that positivity in the middle of what truly has been the hardest week of my life. I want to stop there for a second because that wellness date wasn’t just for funsies. It was necessary. My friend showing up for me that day when she has her own challenges she’s facing and choosing to fill my cup anyway is what having a village is all about. That’s what the right people do. They don’t wait until you’re running on empty to pour into you. They stay close enough to catch you before you get there.

I say this with love, girl if you don’t have that, building it needs to become a priority. Not a someday priority. A now priority. We were never meant to carry the weight of life alone and the sooner we release the idea that needing people is a weakness, the lighter we become. Your village isn’t a luxury. It’s infrastructure. Build it intentionally, protect it fiercely, and show up for it the way you need it to show up for you.

Ok back to what my life actually looked like behind the scenes. I am a mother of three. While I was navigating a crisis with one of my children I still had my girls at home watching me. Watching how I responded. Looking to me to show them the example of how to handle a crisis with grace. How to move through something scary and uncertain without falling apart. They witnessed something traumatic and my job, on top of everything else, is to give them as much normalcy as possible. To be the calm in the middle of the storm so they can feel safe enough to keep going too.

I could have dropped everything. I want to be clear about that. Nobody would have blamed me. Had I opened up about it sooner, I probably would have been encouraged to! But I am self aware enough to know that if I had stopped moving and just sat under the full weight of this, it would have crushed me. Staying in motion wasn’t me being in denial the way I used to believe; it was me surviving. It was me mothering. It was me choosing, every single day, to be an example of what it looks like to bend without breaking.

That’s my story. And that’s what I’m sharing.

Here’s what I’ve learned about myself in the last 72 hours: I don’t sit stuck. And I want to be clear about what that means because I think it gets misunderstood. Not sitting stuck doesn’t mean that I’m not feeling it. It doesn’t mean that I’m bypassing the hard parts or pretending they aren’t there. It means I can be fully present with the weight of something, aware of it, honest about it, without letting it become the single issue that defines my next move. There is a difference between sitting with something and sitting stuck in something. One keeps you in relationship with what you’re going through. The other lets it swallow you whole. I have been sitting with this. I have been aware of exactly how heavy it is. But I have never let it have me. I’ve kept moving. Not because I’m avoiding anything. I’ve done enough inner work to know the difference, and because I’ve been through enough growth cycles to understand that the only way out is through.

So I’ve chosen to keep going. Day by day. Not month by month, not year by year. Just today and then the next.

What’s surreal is that I’m witnessing my own growth in real time. Normally I move through my challenges first and reflect on the lesson afterward. This time I’m doing both simultaneously. I’m the one navigating and the one observing myself navigate. As heavy as this is, there’s a part of me that’s still a little bit excited. Because I’m a firm believer that every challenge comes with an equally great reward on the other side. And the level of discomfort I’m in right now tells me that whatever I’m birthing has to be significant.

That’s not the usual blind optimism I’m notorious for. Let’s just say this is pattern recognition. When you pay attention, growth cycles tend to follow that pattern.

The freedom and the difficulty are the same thing. This season has handed me both at once; more uncertainty than I’ve ever held, and more clarity about who I am than I’ve ever had. My anchor through all of it has been simple. Showing up for my family. Going to class. Handling what needs to be handled. Coming home and letting my mind and my body breathe. A good day doesn’t have to be a grand day. Some days a good day just looks like making it to the other side of it.

Evolution is literally the foundation I’m building my brand on and right now I am living it in the most real way I ever have. I’m no longer performing strength. I’m no longer pretending my life is perfect. But I’m also not falling apart. The weight is real, but so is the woman carrying it.