i started this year with a new perspective, a new heart, a new mindset, and a deeper commitment to walk by faith. after everything i went through in 2025, i had no choice but to place 2026 fully in god’s hands.
because 2025 truly took everything out of me.
after giving birth in march, what should have been one of the most beautiful seasons of my life quickly turned into one of the hardest. i began experiencing chronic, uncontrollable pain. the kind that stops you in your tracks and makes even the simplest moments feel impossible. and yet, as a new mom, i kept going. i had to. my daughter needed me.
what many people didn’t see were the days and nights filled with nonstop tests, hospital stays, and surgeries. the constant cycle of waiting rooms, procedures, and unanswered questions became my new normal. physically, i was exhausted. mentally, i was drained. emotionally, i felt like i was hanging on by a thread.
there’s something incredibly isolating about going through medical uncertainty. not knowing what’s wrong, not knowing how long it will last, and still having to show up every single day and pretending like it’s not affecting you in order not to hurt those around you. this tests you in ways nothing else can.
some of the hardest moments weren’t just the pain or the procedures, it actually was what i missed along the way. milestones. firsts. moments with my baby girl that i will never get back. that kind of loss doesn’t just pass. it stays with you.
but through it all, one thing remained constant: my faith.
there were days i didn’t have the strength to keep going, but i leaned on god to carry me through. when i didn’t understand what was happening, i trusted that there was a bigger plan, even if i couldn’t see it yet. faith became my anchor in the middle of uncertainty. it gave me peace when everything around me felt chaotic, and it reminded me that i was never truly alone.
and just as important as my faith was during this chapter the people god placed around me played a crucial role.
this journey showed me the true meaning of having a support system. my family and best friends stepped in and held me up when i couldn’t stand on my own. they cared for my daughter, showed up at the hospital, checked in, prayed for me, and reminded me to keep fighting. their presence, their love, and their consistency made all the difference.
at the same time, this experience opened my eyes in ways i didn’t expect. it showed me who was truly there for me, and who wasn’t. some people i thought would stand beside me didn’t show up at all, and that hurt. but others, even those i hadn’t spoken to in years, showed up with so much love and support.
and in that, i learned one of the most important lessons of my life: it’s okay to set boundaries.
protecting your peace is not selfish, it’s necessary! i learned to stop overextending myself, to stop pouring into people who weren’t pouring back into me, and to be intentional about who i allow into my space. going through something this heavy teaches you that your energy is precious, and not everyone deserves access to it.
family, i’ve learned, isn’t just about blood, it’s about presence. it’s about consistency. it’s about who shows up for you when life gets hard.
as i now prepare for my surgery next week, i hold onto faith, hope, and everything this past year has taught me. it hasn’t been easy, and it still isn’t. but i’m stronger, more grounded, and more aware of what truly matters.
if there’s one thing i know for sure, it’s this:
god will carry you through what you never thought you could survive.
and the right people will stand beside you while he does.
everything else… you learn to let go.
carried by faith: how god sustained me through my hardest year
i started this year with a new perspective, a new heart, a new mindset, and a deeper commitment to walk by faith. after everything i went through in 2025, i had no choice but to place 2026 fully in god’s hands.
because 2025 truly took everything out of me.
after giving birth in march, what should have been one of the most beautiful seasons of my life quickly turned into one of the hardest. i began experiencing chronic, uncontrollable pain. the kind that stops you in your tracks and makes even the simplest moments feel impossible. and yet, as a new mom, i kept going. i had to. my daughter needed me.
what many people didn’t see were the days and nights filled with nonstop tests, hospital stays, and surgeries. the constant cycle of waiting rooms, procedures, and unanswered questions became my new normal. physically, i was exhausted. mentally, i was drained. emotionally, i felt like i was hanging on by a thread.
there’s something incredibly isolating about going through medical uncertainty. not knowing what’s wrong, not knowing how long it will last, and still having to show up every single day and pretending like it’s not affecting you in order not to hurt those around you. this tests you in ways nothing else can.
some of the hardest moments weren’t just the pain or the procedures, it actually was what i missed along the way. milestones. firsts. moments with my baby girl that i will never get back. that kind of loss doesn’t just pass. it stays with you.
but through it all, one thing remained constant: my faith.
there were days i didn’t have the strength to keep going, but i leaned on god to carry me through. when i didn’t understand what was happening, i trusted that there was a bigger plan, even if i couldn’t see it yet. faith became my anchor in the middle of uncertainty. it gave me peace when everything around me felt chaotic, and it reminded me that i was never truly alone.
and just as important as my faith was during this chapter the people god placed around me played a crucial role.
this journey showed me the true meaning of having a support system. my family and best friends stepped in and held me up when i couldn’t stand on my own. they cared for my daughter, showed up at the hospital, checked in, prayed for me, and reminded me to keep fighting. their presence, their love, and their consistency made all the difference.
at the same time, this experience opened my eyes in ways i didn’t expect. it showed me who was truly there for me, and who wasn’t. some people i thought would stand beside me didn’t show up at all, and that hurt. but others, even those i hadn’t spoken to in years, showed up with so much love and support.
and in that, i learned one of the most important lessons of my life: it’s okay to set boundaries.
protecting your peace is not selfish, it’s necessary! i learned to stop overextending myself, to stop pouring into people who weren’t pouring back into me, and to be intentional about who i allow into my space. going through something this heavy teaches you that your energy is precious, and not everyone deserves access to it.
family, i’ve learned, isn’t just about blood, it’s about presence. it’s about consistency. it’s about who shows up for you when life gets hard.
as i now prepare for my surgery next week, i hold onto faith, hope, and everything this past year has taught me. it hasn’t been easy, and it still isn’t. but i’m stronger, more grounded, and more aware of what truly matters.
if there’s one thing i know for sure, it’s this:
god will carry you through what you never thought you could survive.
and the right people will stand beside you while he does.
everything else… you learn to let go.