Almost one year ago, at the end of October, I boarded a plane to Switzerland with my family. I did not know then that the trip would mark the beginning of my metamorphosis this past year. I thought I was simply visiting an uncle I had never met, someone my mother and aunt had spoken of with tenderness, longing, and a quiet ache.
Sometimes life doesn’t reveal its lessons in advance.
Sometimes it cracks you open the moment you arrive.
And so, it began…
We landed in Zurich on a cold autumn morning. The next day, we went for a visit to see my uncle and after much confusion, we received the news: my uncle had passed away. The man we had travelled across the ocean to meet was no more.
The grief in the room was immediate and overwhelming.
I watched family members fall into shock, not gradually, but all at once.
And without thinking, my body stepped into the role I knew too well:
the strong one,
the stable one,
the caretaker,
the one who would “handle it.”
In that moment, I didn’t ask myself if I could.
I simply did what I had always done.
I organized conversations.
I guided my family through confusion.
I held space for screaming grief, silent grief and grief that had no words at all.
I “figured it all out” and was more than happy to do so. All the details surrounding his death, where he lay at rest. I ensured that before we left, there would be some kind of closure, and although I operated from a space of “getting it done” I let my intuition guide me… But If I am honest, If I let myself have a moment, I may have completely crumbled…
In the middle of that emotional storm, something inside me began to whisper, not loudly, but persistently:
“Why is it always me? What would happen if I just stopped taking care of it all?”
….I pushed the questions away.
There was no time to embrace my own emotions.
There never had been.
But the week acted like a mirror, revealing pieces of myself I had carried for decades:
The roles I never questioned.
The generational patterns that weren’t mine, and I did not to participate in anymore.
The belief that my needs were a burden.
The weight of being the eldest daughter — the one who must be okay, even when she isn’t.
Switzerland was the beginning of a slow, yet rapid unraveling.
Letting the Darkness Be…
When we flew back home, my body didn’t fall into exhaustion the way I expected.
It fell into truth.
Grief met the parts of me I had avoided for years, the anger, the loneliness, the emotional withdrawal, the way I disappeared inside my own life when things became too heavy.
I started to realize that the version of me I had built, the reliable one, the resilient one, the “yes” no matter what one, had been created out of fear, not love.
I had become:
the one who never needs help…ever
the one who sacrifices herself so others feel safe and secure
the one who says yes because “it’s family”
the one who holds together everything
the one who never breaks
the one who must be perfect or she is a failure
the one who doesn’t pursue her dreams because, “what would others think?” or “do I even deserve that?”
Not because anyone demanded it
but because, as a child, I believed that being these things meant I would have love.
And as an adult, I hadn’t stopped living that way.
It was not my fault, I was young, but I can witness how subconscious choices I made because of circumstance weaved its way subtly through how I lived life and saw myself.
The reckoning was slow at first.
Then it became impossible to ignore.
There were nights I sat alone, staring into space, wondering why I felt so empty when I had done everything “right.” Even as I write this, I can feel how much I was in turmoil.
There was a question growing inside me, unbeknownst to me, a quiet one, the kind that sits in the very depth of your being
Do I even want to be here anymore?
It wasn’t dramatic.
It wasn’t sharp.
It wasn’t frantic.
It was still.
It was quiet.
It was honest.
A part of my soul was preparing to leave, and I didn’t even know how close I really was.
December 8, 2024: The Night that Everything Shifted
It was a normal evening.
I was driving home, and making a stop to the store.
I approached an intersection to make a turn
And in less than a second an 18-wheeler ran a red light.
It was inches.
Life and death, separated by a breath.
For three days afterward, my body froze.
Literally froze.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t fully come back into myself.
I doubted if what I was feeling was even real. Did I make it up?
It felt like half of me had slipped out of my body and wasn’t sure whether to return.
But when I did finally return, when my breath finally came back, so did a single, unmistakable truth:
This was moment of choice for my soul.
Stay or go.
Live or leave.
Not out of obligation, not out of duty, not because I was needed, but because I wanted to…
I chose to stay.
I chose to live.
I chose to see what my life could be if I stopped carrying what was never mine.
I chose to believe I was worthy of joy, love, and support.
I chose a future I had never allowed myself to imagine.
And that choice changed me.
Don’t get me wrong, either choice my Soul made, my Soul was ok. It was a choice, but by choosing to stay, I am giving myself this chance to live from a different energy deeply connected to who I really want to be.
The Darkness led me to the Light
The months that followed were not glamorous.
They were not linear.
They were not easy.
It felt like dismantling a house I had lived in my whole life, while still living inside it. My body had to go through this.
I learned to set boundaries. Real ones.
Ones that felt good to me rather than pleased others.
I began choosing myself in small and enormous ways.
I stopped abandoning myself.
I let people hold me.
I let grief move through me.
I let anger move without shame.
I learned to slow everything down.
And in all the space I was able to create…
beauty began to find me.
True love came into my life, not from a place of need, but from a place of alignment.
I took a brave leap into my business
Doors opened.
Support arrived.
Purpose became clear
I became devoted to myself and life
I began to experience myself not as a role, not as a protector, not as a holder of burdens…
but as a woman with a heart wide open to life.
Everything I had been praying for finally had room to land.
Embracing My Soul’s Choice
I stand here now:
grounded in my purpose
devoted to my healing
committed to my mission
in love with my life
grateful for both the shadow and the light
Having FUN!
The contrast humbles me every time I think about it:
Last year, part of me was ready to leave this existence.
This year, I am fully, fiercely, here.
Devotion: The Word That Held My Year
This entire year has taught me that darkness isn’t something to escape.
Our shadow is our teacher and has much to say.
It is often the darkness that asks the hardest questions:
Who are you without your roles?
What is yours to carry?
What do you want to let go of?
What do you truly want?
Will you choose yourself?
The darkness forced me inward.
It made me brave.
I found courage.
Now I sit in a new cocoon after a very active year of shift.
My body is resting.
My soul is integrating.
My heart is open.
The future feels bright in a way that is soft, steady, and anchored. I do not know what it will look like, but I trust it and want to experience the fullness of all of it.
I stayed.
Now I get to choose how I want to live out the rest of this incarnation, because I am not complete here, yet.
