11/24/2025
This was the hardest goodbye I’ve ever had to write, but it was the one I’ve avoided the longest.
I’ve carried her with me for 44 years — the version of me who handled everything I couldn’t, who kept me alive when nothing around me felt safe, who showed up for everyone else even when no one showed up for her.
I didn’t realize how much of my life was built on her instincts until today.
How much of my personality was just protection.
How many of my habits were just survival.
How long I’d been dragging her pain into places she was never supposed to follow me into.
Tonight I finally let myself say the truth:
she did her job.
She kept me alive.
She carried me farther than anyone ever thought I’d get.
And I’m grateful for her in a way I can’t fully put into words.
But I can’t grow if I keep living as the version of me who only knew how to survive.
I can’t build a life from the same place I once built armor.
I can’t become who I’m supposed to be while dragging around who I had to be.
So this carousel is the goodbye I’ve earned.
The one she’s earned.
She deserves to be recognized in front of the world.
My world.
The one I’ve been putting off because letting go feels like betrayal, even when it’s just truth.
Tomorrow begins a different story.
A new world.
A new version of me actually building instead of surviving.
Thank you for getting me this far.
I’ll take it from here.