The Journey is the summary of it all—the 90-day trek through emotion, truth, and words that felt like scarred flesh being carefully grafted back together through writing.
It was about putting my truth into a mirror that wouldn’t distort the reflection. A mirror that wouldn’t lie to me.
This section holds the energy of the toughest days. The moments when my mind begged me to abort the mission, to sink back into old patterns, to let struggle remain my identity. But it also holds something just as powerful—the joy of pushing through. The quiet, undeniable sense of accomplishment.
At the time, I had no idea how much more work lay ahead. I never could have imagined the year of effort that would follow. But what I did know was that The Journey was built on one truth: I showed up.
Every single day, I wrote. Not because I saw where it was leading, but because I had promised myself I would.
For decades, I held myself back. Stood in my own way. Stubborn. Stagnant. Not because I didn’t want to move forward, but because fear had its grip on me.
But through this process, I discovered something: I don’t need to be anything but me.
This writing, this challenge—it opened a door within me that I didn’t even know existed. And when I walked through, I saw that I had done something real. Something undeniable.
I let go of the storm clouds that used to follow me. The ones that kept me silent, that made me believe I would die with truths I had never spoken. Now, I know better. I know how to let go. I know how to move forward.
And I know that the life ahead of me—the dreams I still have left to accomplish—will never again be held back by something that no longer exists.