There are moments in life where everything we know, or thought we knew, feels like it is being packed up and carried into a new, unknown place. Not just the physical things like furniture, books, clothing.. but the very core of who we are, the relationships we carry, the old voices we still hear in our minds. Right now, I am in one of those moments.
And it feels like I am not just moving houses, I am moving my life. It is not easy. It is, in fact, one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But somewhere deep within me, something strong and quiet knows that this is the right path.

The Weight We Carry

Growing up, I absorbed certain messages, both spoken and unspoken. These messages were about strength, success, and survival. I was taught that asking for help was weakness. I never learned about healing. I was told that doing anything different from the norm would “mess up our future.” And like so many people, I listened to those messages for a long time. I internalized them. I let them shape the way I lived, the choices I made, the fears I carried.

Now, as I stand on the brink of a new life, a life where I can finally live authentically, where my children can grow freely, I realize..
I cannot carry those old voices with me anymore.

Some baggage must be left behind if we are to move forward.
And that includes not just the things in our hands, but the things in our hearts.

A New Vision for My Family

One of the biggest shifts happening is my decision to homeschool my daughter. This isn’t a sudden idea. In fact, years ago when she was just starting school, I felt a deep pull toward homeschooling. But at the time, fear won. I worried, was I good enough? Would I ruin things? Should I just trust the system?
And so, like many parents, I sent her to school.

But she struggled.
She is a bright, creative, loving soul, and the rigid structure of the system dimmed her light. She was bullied. Excluded. She began to adopt the sharpness and defensiveness of her peers, not because she is unkind, but because she was trying to survive. And the girl I know, the girl with the tender heart and boundless imagination, started to slip away.

I can’t go back and change the past, but I can change the future. I can choose now to create a learning environment where she is seen, heard, and loved, not just another name on a roster. I can bring education back to what it was meant to be.. a natural extension of living, exploring, creating. We’ll blend academics with real life.. family time, arts and crafts, outdoor adventures, nature studies, educational field trips. Learning won’t be something we squeeze into the cracks of life, it will be life.

It feels like a breath of fresh air. Like stepping out of a tiny box into a wide-open field.
And I cannot wait to walk into that field with my children.

Letting Go of Old Ties

Building something new often means tearing something else down and that part is harder than I ever expected. I find myself not just packing up belongings, but making deep, difficult decisions. What relationships will I bring with me into this new chapter? What beliefs no longer serve me? What patterns must end with me, so they don’t continue into the next generation?

It’s not about hate or anger. It’s about truth. Some relationships are rooted in pain, in control, in fear. No matter how much I love someone, if staying connected means sacrificing my peace, my family’s safety, or our emotional health.. I must let go.

That realization brings both heartbreak and freedom. It’s not easy to walk away from familiar things, even when they hurt.. but staying would cost too much.

The Heartbreak of letting go

One of the most painful parts of this journey is watching people I love stay stuck in their old life, their familiar ways. Whether it’s fear, financial entanglement, emotional dependency, or simply the heaviness of time, I see them staying exactly where they are. I see them missing out on precious moments they will never get back. I see them trading possibility for safety, and it breaks my heart. There’s a part of me that wants to scream “You can still choose a new path!” But I’ve learned something, their path is not mine to walk. I can love them. I can pray for them. I can hold hope in my heart for their healing. But I cannot carry them across the bridge they refuse to cross. And so I honor my love for them, but I choose to let go.

The Pull Toward Creativity and Community

At the heart of this transition is not just what I’m leaving behind, but what I’m walking toward. I feel a strong and undeniable pull toward a creative life. Toward helping others reconnect with their creativity, their connection to nature, their community. Toward uniting people through art, beauty, and healing. My creative business is still small right now. It’s more of a dream than a finished reality, but I feel its heart beating. It is alive. It is calling me forward. And even if it hasn’t fully blossomed yet, I know it’s part of the larger story. I know it’s the expression of everything I’m learning, that healing is possible, that beauty matters, that connection saves lives. I’m building something meaningful. It’s not just for me, but for those who are ready to walk a new path too.

Honoring the Past, Choosing the Future

There are days when the grief catches me off guard. When I miss the people I am letting go of. When I ache for the life I once thought we would have. But I remember, grieving is part of growing. Shedding your old self is part of becoming. I honor the love that was real. I honor the hope that lived inside me. I honor the fact that I stayed as long as I could, loved as hard as I could. And now, I honor myself by choosing to grow and find peace.

In this next season, I am carrying my truth, my faith in the unseen road ahead, my creativity, and my deep unshakable belief that love and kindness sets people free. I am not just moving houses, I am moving into a new way of living. I do it with gratitude, courage, and peace. In the end, this isn’t just about leaving anything behind. It’s about stepping fully into who I was always meant to be.

---

---