I’m Not Starting Over. I’m Standing Taller.

There’s this quiet pressure we put on ourselves to constantly reinvent.

New year. New season. New chapter. New you.

But here’s the truth no one really says out loud:

Most of us aren’t starting over.

We’re standing up after being knocked down.

And that deserves more credit than it gets.

This week, I found myself tired—not the “I need more sleep” kind of tired, but the kind that comes from holding it together for too long. The kind that comes from being strong because you had no other choice. From healing while still showing up. From loving while protecting yourself. From growing while grieving the version of life you thought you’d have.

At this age— this season—strength looks different.

It’s quieter now.

More intentional.

Less performative.

I don’t need to announce my growth anymore. I don’t need to explain my boundaries. I don’t need applause for surviving things that almost broke me.

What I need is peace.

And peace, I’ve learned, is not passive—it’s chosen.

The Myth of “Bouncing Back”

We’re taught to bounce back quickly.

To move on gracefully.

To smile through pain and call it resilience.

But real resilience doesn’t bounce.

It roots.

It takes its time.

It asks hard questions.

It sheds what no longer fits.

Sometimes healing looks like rest.

Sometimes it looks like distance.

Sometimes it looks like saying, “I don’t have the energy to carry this anymore.”

And that doesn’t make you weak.

It makes you awake.

Loving Differently, Living Honestly

At this point in life, I love differently.

I no longer chase people who don’t choose me.

I no longer soften my truth to keep others comfortable.

I no longer confuse history with loyalty.

Love—real love—feels safe.

It doesn’t keep score.

It doesn’t require shrinking.

And neither should your life.

If you’ve outgrown rooms, relationships, expectations, or versions of yourself—good. That’s not loss. That’s alignment.

This Is the Season of Standing Tall

I’m not in my “starting over” era.

I’m in my standing taller era.

Taller because I’ve faced hard things.

Taller because I’ve forgiven what deserved release.

Taller because I know who I am—even when the world is loud.

If you’re feeling this too—this quiet shift, this deeper clarity, this exhaustion mixed with gratitude—know this:

You’re not behind.

You’re not broken.

You’re not late.

You’re becoming exactly who you’re meant to be.

And that, my friend, is more powerful than starting over ever . And I say it’s a good thing like our friend Martha always says.