2025 has chewed me up and spit me out. And still, here I am, learning how to love this new version of myself. I know I’m different. I am not the same woman I was a year ago, and I don’t think I’m supposed to be. The reality of how short life truly is has taken hold of me in a way I can’t unsee.
I know I have to lead with purpose and intention, but I’ll be honest, it’s hard right now. There are scars on my heart that are still healing, and I’m not entirely sure who this woman is yet. I know exactly who I want to become, I’m just moving through the fog of how to reach her. This storm feels like the storm of my life.
But don’t feel bad for me. Don’t worry about me. I already know this will shape me into a better woman. Some work has to be done alone, and this is mine.
This past year, I took a leap, pouring myself into learning new skills and new ventures, partly to survive and partly to avoid the pain. What I didn’t realize at the time was that I was healing by stretching myself beyond what was comfortable. Growth found me there.
It’s almost surreal how much I relate to the barn project, restoring something weathered and revealing beauty and grace that was always there, just hidden beneath time and storms. When you hear me talk about that old barn, know that I’m also talking about myself.
This is my storm. And I know, without question, that once I make it through, it will also be my rainbow.
Moral of the Story – Dear 2025 you can respectfully kiss my ass. ❤️✌🏼-Jamie
Moral Of The Story 