12/16/2025
I met the saddest version of myself this year, too—the one who moved through life on autopilot, carrying weight no one else could see. I lost my spark, my clarity, my sense of direction. I lost pieces of myself I thought were permanent, parts I never imagined I’d have to go searching for again. Some days it felt like everything familiar had slipped through my fingers at once.
But here’s the part that matters: I’m still here. And I’m working on finding my way back to me again.
That doesn’t mean it’s easy. Healing isn’t linear, and rediscovering yourself doesn’t happen in one brave moment. It happens quietly—when you get out of bed even though your heart feels heavy, when you choose rest instead of self-blame, when you stop pretending you’re okay and start being honest with yourself. It happens when you forgive yourself for surviving the only way you knew how at the time.
Losing your spark doesn’t mean it’s gone forever. Sometimes it just goes dormant, buried under grief, exhaustion, disappointment, or betrayal. Sometimes you had to fall apart to see what was never truly aligned. The version of you that struggled wasn’t weak—it was overwhelmed, hurting, and still trying to endure.
Finding your way back doesn’t mean becoming who you used to be. It means becoming someone wiser, more self-aware, more protective of their peace. Someone who knows their limits now. Someone who understands that softness and strength can exist in the same body.
Take your time. Rebuilding yourself is not a race. Every small step counts—every boundary set, every moment of self-compassion, every day you choose not to give up on yourself. You’re not broken. You’re becoming.
And the fact that you’re trying—right now, after everything—that tells me your spark is already flickering back to life.
“Andy Burg”
