From Surviving to Thriving: How I Reclaimed My Health and Power After Hitting Rock Bottom

There was a time in my life when I barely recognized the woman staring back at me in the mirror.

After the end of my marriage, I found myself suddenly and unexpectedly raising four small children on my own. It was overwhelming, heartbreaking, and terrifying all at once. There was no time to process the grief or the loss—I went into survival mode. My days became a blur of diaper changes, school runs, scraped knees, and bedtime stories. I gave every ounce of energy I had to make sure my kids felt safe and loved.

But somewhere along the way, I disappeared.

I stopped eating well. I stopped moving my body. I stopped listening to what I needed—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I told myself I didn’t have time for self-care. That putting myself first, even for a moment, was selfish. I believed being a good mother meant being a martyr.

And as the months went by, the weight started to pile on—physically and emotionally. I wasn’t just carrying extra pounds. I was carrying guilt, resentment, exhaustion, and a deep sense of failure. I put on a brave face, but inside I was unraveling.

It wasn’t until I hit a breaking point that I realized something had to change. I wasn’t helping my kids by sacrificing my health. In fact, I was doing them more harm than good. They needed a mom who was strong—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. They needed a role model who showed them what self-respect and resilience looked like.

So I started small.

I gave myself permission to prioritize me again—without guilt. I started moving my body, even if it was just a walk around the block. I began nourishing myself with foods that gave me energy instead of draining it. I carved out quiet time to breathe, to journal, to cry, to dream. I made mistakes, stumbled often, and some days I felt like I was back at square one.

But I never gave up.

With every step forward, no matter how small, I started to feel stronger. Lighter. More grounded. And the more I took care of myself, the better I was for my kids. I had more patience, more joy, more presence. I was becoming the kind of woman I hoped my daughters would grow up to be—and the kind of woman I wanted my sons to respect and admire.

Today, I’m still on the journey. There are still hard days, but they don’t knock me down the way they used to. I’m proud of how far I’ve come—not just in reclaiming my health, but in rebuilding a life I love.

Now, as a middle-aged woman and entrepreneur, I’ve found purpose in helping others do the same. To remind women that it’s never too late to start over. That your breakdown can become your breakthrough. That taking care of yourself is not selfish—it’s essential.

This path isn’t easy. But the rewards—self-respect, strength, confidence, peace—are worth every step.

If you’re in the middle of your own storm right now, please hear this: You are not alone. You are not broken. And you are absolutely capable of rising again.