The Dreamer's Pen

Four years ago, I was strong. I was disciplined. I was healthy. And then, my world fractured. When my mom passed away, something inside me unraveled. Grief wasn’t just an emotion, it became a presence that lived inside of me, shifting my habits, numbing my ambitions, and slowly eroding the foundation of my well being.

I let myself go. I stopped caring about what I put into my body, stopped moving in ways that made me feel alive, stopped listening to the quiet warnings my health was whispering to me. Food became comfort. Stillness became my refuge. And little by little, I drifted further from the person I once was.

Now, I stand at a crossroads. My doctor’s words hit like a hammer: pre-diabetic. High cholesterol. My body, once so resilient, now struggles under the weight of years of neglect. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t how my story ends.

What makes this even harder and what makes it terrifying—is that I’ve seen where this road leads. My mom had Type 2 diabetes and high cholesterol. She passed away from a stroke. That reality is seared into my mind, a warning I can not ignore. When I got my pre surgery blood work back, it was a wake-up call I never expected but desperately needed. I don’t want to follow in her footsteps in this way. I don’t want my story to end like hers.

I recently had surgery. A physical wound, a tangible reminder of my body’s need for care. And while my incision heals, I know my deepest wounds are unseen. They are the years I spent suppressing my pain instead of processing it. They are the choices I made that pulled me further from myself. But healing isn’t just about repairing what’s broken—it’s about rebuilding, reimagining, reclaiming.

A Commitment to Myself

1. Nourishing My Body with Intention – No more mindless eating. Every bite will be an act of self-respect, a step toward balance. More whole foods, fewer processed crutches.


2. Moving with Purpose – Exercise isn’t punishment. It’s how I reconnect with my body, how I remind myself that I am still strong, still capable, still worthy of care.


3. Making Peace with Rest – Grief stole my sleep, and stress tightened its grip on my body. I am learning to release, to rest, to honor my need for restoration.


4. Measuring Growth Beyond Numbers – My journey isn’t defined by a scale. It’s in the way I feel when I wake up, in the endurance I build, in the peace I cultivate within myself.

This isn’t just about lowering my cholesterol or reversing prediabetes. This is about finding my way back to myself. My mother wouldn’t want me to live in the shadow of loss. She would want me to rise, to fight, to claim every ounce of the life still ahead of me. And so, I choose to heal. not just from surgery, not just from illness, but from the years I spent believing I wasn’t worth the effort.

If you’re reading this and you see yourself in my words, know this: you are not alone. Grief changes us, but it doesn’t have to define us. We can rebuild. We can return to ourselves. One step, one choice, one breath at a time.