When you find yourself succumbing to the lie that wellness is not possible, that you have no way out of all the despair, know this: you are not alone in your battle, and you are worth fighting for. Asking for help is not weakness, it is strength in itself. Find your life raft. I promise it’s there. Depression doesn’t have to win.

For years I have held onto this idea of authenticity, of growing in my own self-awareness and self-acceptance, recognizing I have something good to offer the world as myself. No need for pretenses or performances or mirages. If I am to be accepted, it should be as myself, not a caricature of how I wish to be perceived.

If you were to step into my childhood bedroom, you’d find countless half-written plays about long-lost sisters and numerous diary entries detailing my family vacations. Writing always came naturally to me. It is how I deconstructed new concepts and ideas.

Today, I see my white cane as a badge of honor.

I see my white cane as a reminder of how far I’ve come. Every time I use it, I see a girl who felt despair the day she was diagnosed with RP to someone who is learning to love herself enough by embracing all parts of who she is. Today, there is nothing self-conscious about the cane. It’s simply a little help for my vision.

Brokenness is not where this ends, though. When years of walls are shattered and strewn about, choices have to be made. Will we rebuild what was broken exactly the way it was before? OR Will we choose to restore what was broken into something stronger and more beautiful? This time, I chose the latter.

Shame doesn’t have the final word. Not in my story and not in yours.

Our world, whether it means to or not, has a tendency to place strength and independence at odds with vulnerability, as if we can only have one or the other. Women must either be snappy, professional, and independent as they speed down the sidewalk in their heels or they must curl up in their cashmere sweater to talk about their feelings with their partner. Men must continually be strong and independent, as they aren’t socially expected to have an avenue in which to be vulnerable.  

If we let it, motherhood can unlock a secret door to the humans we were meant to be. You will never find me claiming to be an expert in the field of motherhood. (It would be foolish to do so when each day presents a new opportunity for growth.) But, if you feel that a part of you has been lost in motherhood, take some time to consider just a few ways into the path of finding!

Even after I knew the relationship was toxic, I stayed. Crippling anxiety and self-doubt forbade me from leaving. I sought advice from friends, family, professionals, and blogs.  And out of everything I learned, there were four lessons that finally gave me the strength to walk away. 

However it started, this is what I realized: something as small as a pill could never define your worth.