At 14, my world was turned upside down when my mother died suddenly… she was only 46. It was a sunny Wednesday morning in May. She kissed me goodbye as I left for school, and by the next morning, she was gone. How could I possibly be expected to live without her?

In what seemed to be an overnight experience, I was now in charge of taking care of the household, which meant planning the meals and doing the grocery shopping with my dad, cooking for all 8 of us, taking charge of the laundry, and doing my share of the yard work. I was just finishing my freshman year in high school, but schoolwork and friends were the furthest from my mind.

Right then I resolved to be brave. I thought bravery meant no tears, no emotion. I didn’t dare allow myself to think about the milestones I would miss for years to come. I powered through, and every single day I decided to live according to what others expected of me. At the same time, I began to isolate and withdraw into a shell of myself. I never asked questions or pushed back.

I couldn’t let my family down.

My mother was my anchor, my guide, and my confidant. Her absence left me feeling adrift in a world dimmed by grief, aching for her warmth. I felt alone and believed I could shield myself from further heartache by retreating into my shell. Always keeping one foot in and one foot out, I thought I was protecting myself from pain, but it only prevented me from living life… I was merely surviving.

All I wanted was my mother but she was never coming back.

For years my shell became my identity, a coping mechanism born from fear. I kept people at a distance and maintained the facade of being okay while masking the reality that I was a mess.

I finally realized I wanted more, so things needed to change. It was time to face my deepest fear and allow myself to feel the sadness I’d been avoiding for so many years. Stepping out of my shell meant engaging with the world around me, and trusting I am not alone. With each barrier removed, I continue to let my vulnerability become a source of strength rather than weakness. I’ve learned to accept the full spectrum of emotions from joy to sorrow and acknowledge their vital roles in my healing and growth.

In this ongoing journey, I carry my mother’s spirit and embody the values she instilled in me as a little girl by honoring who I am without the need for pretense or protection.

Finally facing my own grief, I now want to help you trust the resilience within your heart. I understand the depth of your pain and the strength it takes to heal. Together, let’s rediscover your light and navigate a path towards healing and growth so we can honor our mothers’ memories for generations to come.