Because no one will choose me if I don’t choose myself first.

For years, I’ve been the one everyone could count on.
The one who showed up.
The one who kept the pieces together.
The one who quietly put my needs last, convincing myself that this is what love looks like.

And I do love my family—so much. They’re wonderful. But the truth is, they don’t always see all that I do behind the scenes. They don’t see the energy it takes to hold it all together. Yet when my mood shifts—even rarely—it feels like all the good I’ve done suddenly unravels in their eyes.

They notice the cracks in my armor but not the weight I’ve been carrying all along.

And I’m done with that.

This season of my life is about setting boundaries without apology.

I’m choosing my health because I want to feel good in my body—not to impress anyone, not because someone told me I should, but because I deserve to feel vibrant again.

I’m choosing to write the book that’s been whispering to me for years. Not for likes. Not for validation. But because the words inside me deserve a place to live.

It feels selfish to even type that.
But it’s not. It’s survival. It’s self-respect.

So today, I’m starting small. Saying no more often. Making time for me without guilt. Releasing the need to explain or justify why I deserve care too.

Because the only person who can truly give me what I’ve been waiting for all along… is me.

If you’re reading this and feeling the same pull—permission granted. You don’t have to keep draining yourself for people who take without giving. You’re allowed to stop. You’re allowed to breathe. You’re allowed to choose you.

I’m not sure where this road leads yet, but I know this:

It’s time.

Time to take my power back.
Time to become the version of me I’ve been too busy to meet.
Time to live unposted, unapologetic, and free.