Crow and Flame

I started 2025 so sick I could barely walk.

My iron was plummeting. I was constantly dizzy.

My emotions were all over the place, and nightmares visited me several nights a week.

My body was waving a white flag, and my mind wasn’t far behind.

So I made a choice.

I dove headfirst into my own healing. I started therapy. I trained in self-defense. I invested—truly invested—into myself, not as an afterthought, but as a priority.

2025 was emotional. It was uncomfortable. It was challenging in ways that stretched me far beyond my comfort zone. But somewhere in the middle of the hard, I learned something life-changing:

I am capable.

And the only thing that ever stood in my way… was me.

I ran more races. I challenged myself mentally and physically. I picked art back up after years of not even allowing myself to talk about it. I started writing again. I published my own book.

I also started Crow & Flame—a project born from my own healing—to promote creative wellness and self-expression, and to remind others that art can be both refuge and medicine.

I made the brave decision to change jobs—choosing growth, alignment, and my own well-being over comfort and familiarity. It was another step in trusting myself and honoring what I need to thrive.

And in a moment that still feels surreal, I stood on a stage as a speaker at a women’s conference, sharing pieces of my own story—my struggle, my healing, my becoming—with other women. I spoke words out loud that once lived only in the quiet corners of my heart.

I ended the year stronger than I began it—earning my orange belt in MMA, proof not just of physical strength, but of discipline, resilience, and the willingness to keep showing up even when it’s hard.

For so long, I believed those things were meant for other people.

I’m not an artist.

I’m not a writer.

I’m not an athlete.

And that inner dialogue always led to the same quiet, devastating conclusion:

I’m not special. I’m not good enough. I’m not worthy.

But I am.

And honestly? I’m so much more than I ever gave myself credit for.

In 2025, I showed up for myself.

Again and again.

On the days it was hard.

On the days I was afraid.

On the days I wanted to quit.

And I proved to myself that I can do anything.