Thirty Years, Countless Battles, One Voice

Today, I turn 30.

What that means exactly, I’m not entirely sure yet. What I do know is that I never thought I’d be here. There were seasons in my life when making it to 30 didn’t feel possible, especially after fully recognizing the depth and weight of what I’ve had to survive.

But today, I am here.

And I’m not just here, I’m fighting. I’m fighting not only for my own life but for the lives of others who have been through what I’ve endured. I am using my voice, speaking up and out, even if it only reaches one person. Because one person matters.

I don’t know what this next year or the next decade will hold. But I do know what I’ll bring into it. I’ll bring love. I’ll pour my heart into the work I do. I’ll keep showing up and fighting for what I believe in. That’s what keeps my heart going. That’s what keeps me going.

The trauma and loss I’ve experienced has to have a purpose. If it doesn’t, it threatens to consume me. And I can’t let it win. I won’t.

There’s a quote from an unreleased song by Amanda Nolan that has stayed with me:

“You were never meant to carry this weight,
You’ve given more than you’ve ever taken,
And now the thread’s unraveling,
But they still depend on you,
‘Cause who else is gonna fix this mess?
Or be the one to hold it all together
When no one else notices,
I see you.”

The first time I heard these lyrics, they stopped me in my tracks. Music and art are often how I connect to others, how I understand both myself and the world. And these words felt like someone had seen directly into my soul.

There are so many lyrics I could’ve quoted in this post, but this is the one that needed to be here. Because lately, I’ve felt like everything is unraveling. Like I’ve given everything I had and had nothing left. But I’m learning something important. Maybe I don’t need to stop giving. I just need to shift where I’m giving.

So now, I’m giving everything to this platform, to advocacy, to vulnerability, to truth-telling, to the hope that someone reading this will feel less alone. That you will feel less alone.

For the first time in a long time, I feel seen and heard. Not because someone handed that to me, but because I’ve decided to claim it for myself. I’m empowering myself to stand in that space. And I want to help others do the same.

This next year is about love and growth. It’s about change. It’s about getting back up, again and again, no matter how dark it gets. It’s about leaning on the people I trust when I need strength and offering strength when others need it from me.

Thirty feels like the beginning of something.

And maybe that’s enough for today.

To anyone reading this who feels like they’re unraveling, please hold on.
You are not alone. You are not broken. Your story doesn’t end here. Even on the days when you feel invisible, I promise, someone sees you. Keep showing up, even if all you can do is breathe. That is enough. You are enough. And there is hope, even if it starts as a whisper.