2018: a year in review

JANUARY 2018

Hold fast to your pockets of joy. I scribbled that line down one January morning, determined to find the magic in my endless string of monotonous days. I booked my first wedding of the year for May, and began my collaboration with Next Stop Kids Shop in Waupaca for their Spring Portrait Day Event. I could feel the beginning of something starting. Change was in the air but I didn't yet realize that all I had to do was jump out of my comfort zone to make something happen. I picked INTENT as my One Little Word this year, as an attempt to be more in the present and pick where I was spending my time and energy wisely. I started knitting a blanket from the same yarn that made a twisted cowl of mine in 2015. I upgraded my iPhone from the 6s to the 8+ and marveled over portrait mode (and mourned the loss of the headphone jack).

FEBRUARY 2018

McDonald's closed for renovations at the beginning of the month, which meant I basically turned into a fast-food zombie that permanently smelled like stale french fries and Hardee's grease. Combine that with winter's below-zero freezes and snow/ice storms and you had one depressed Anna. I celebrated the days I managed to drag myself out of bed at all. I boycotted doing anything but going to work and coming home and collapsing from mental and physical exhaustion. Justin and I watched a lot of documentaries. One day I got an email from eShakti and got my -ish together enough to photograph myself in one of their amazing dresses. I took pictures of tulips at the grocery store and started a countdown toward Spring and Daylight Savings to bring back some joy into my life.

MARCH 2018

I danced it out. A lot. All the work-related stress kept piling up. My life felt like it permanently belonged to Hardee's. I normally have a pretty good handle on my stress-related outbursts, but the added stress of McDonald's usual customers coming to Hardee's broke me and I more or less took it out on my co-workers and begged my bosses to listen to us. All I wanted was for my voice to be heard—"No more six day work weeks, you're killing everyone on second shift!" And let's not forget the night that I went on break to discover a flesh-light (YEAH, one of those!) stuck to the antenna on my car. My desire to take photography full-time again bubbled to the surface and I knew I had a concrete goal to work toward. Justin and I were dreaming about quitting Hardee's and moving out of Waupaca entirely. I was basically running on coffee and dance parties to keep myself sane. My portrait event with Next Stop Kids Shop on St. Patrick's Day went pretty good. Only three people showed up, but I was just so happy that 1) I wasn't spending a Saturday at Hardee's, and 2) I was taking pictures. Nothing else mattered. We rounded out March with a bout of the stomach flu. Not exactly the greatest ending to a not-so-great month overall.

APRIL 2018

I took prom pictures for one of my co-workers on a chilly Saturday morning. I took a walk around the backyard with my coffee almost every morning for my 365 picture. I finished another 365 project. Sometimes I still can't believe I took a picture every day for a year again. The weekend of my birthday, we got 30 inches of snow. IN APRIL. I started a 52 weeks project just like I did in 2011, determined to at least use my camera once a week but the ultimate goal was a self-portrait. Other than that, my birthday was pretty chill—mine and Justin's butts on the couch, Naruto: Shippuden, and eating pizza per tradition. Starr and I took pictures at the end of the month after all the snow had melted and it was warm enough to run around in a t-shirt again. I anxiously counted down to my first of three weddings in 2018.

MAY 2018

May was quite the month. I shot my first wedding in six years and didn't die. It all came back to me—the rush of capturing this day that you'll always remember but would never quite be able to recreate. I'm determined to do more of that in 2019. Eric, one of my Hardee's co-workers, and his fiancee Heather were the best. I can never tell them thank you enough times for going out on a limb and hiring me. The rest of the month was spent behind my laptop working on their pictures when I wasn't at work or going for my daily morning walk around the backyard. I did manage to squeeze in a trip to Burlington though to help Noelle with last minute wedding details over Adrian's. Hannah Brencher's new book Come Matter Here came out and I brought it to the laundromat to read every week once I got it. Toward the end of the month, I realized that although McDonald's was scheduled to open at the beginning of June, I was basically going to be working six days a week between Hardee's and my photo business. I knew one of them was going to get pushed aside sooner or later due to burnout and lack of interest.

JUNE 2018

I had my second wedding of 2018 on June 9 for one of my friends that used to work at Hardee's with me. I cried from behind my camera as she walked down the aisle and felt so honored to be able to capture her special day. And then during family photos, after the ceremony, my camera flashed an ERROR 99 message at me and died. RIP to my little Canon XSi. That night, I freaked out and tried like hell to get their ceremony photos off my chipped memory card so I could give them something. I also upgraded my camera to a Canon 6D Mark II and then quit my day job the very next day. (Say what? I'm crazy? Yes, I know.) Quitting Hardee's was a long time coming. The very last full shift I worked, a rainbow appeared at sunset. If that wasn't a sign, I don't know what is. I couldn't believe I was finally going to take the plunge to work for myself. The weekend after that was Noelle's wedding that I was in instead of photographing, and we had so much fun despite the heat index being like 107*. I got to give a toast before dinner and managed to fit 3 inside jokes, and 2 references to Grey's Anatomy: "You're my person" and the famous Mer-Der Post It Note Vows. When I got home, I got serious about setting a work schedule for myself and building a new routine. I built myself a website, got myself some business cards made up, and I was ready to go. 

JULY 2018

Honestly, I spent a lot of time the first half of the month catching up on Noah Centineo movies on Netflix. My dad's 60th birthday would have been July 16, and I spent half the day wallowing in sadness over his loss and the other half taking pictures for self-portrait therapy in golden hour sunlight. My dad never lived by anyone's rules except his own, and it was so therapeutic for me to be doing something I love just like he would have done. I also picked up that blanket I started knitting back in January again to knit the sadness and loss away. I took a trip to Burlington at the end of the month to meet with my last wedding couple of the year, and photograph an old friend and her baby. I was taking my normal drive around town to see what's changed and what hasn't and found a sunflower field on the side of the road. Oak Rest Farms, you da best for offering this beautiful field to the community to take pictures in.

AUGUST 2018

I spent the beginning of the month breaking down walls, asking myself, "What happens if we unwrap the trauma scars we all wear as women and let them breathe?" And then spent the morning rolling around on the floor, getting used to the way my own body felt beneath me. Taking back ownership of the very thing that was used against you is one of the most empowering parts of moving through trauma recovery. A few days later, I had a maternity session with an old friend from high school and was reminded of how good it feels to catch up with old friends. We went for lunch at Little Fat Gretchen's, aka where I take everyone who comes to visit me in Waupaca because it's so cute. I spent the two-year anniversary of my dad's death in Burlington again, but this year it was to shoot my last wedding of the year in Kenosha. My mom was in the middle of renovating her kitchen so I stayed in a hotel a couple blocks away from their reception venue. I went to the Brat Stop for dinner the night before the wedding and marveled at the sunset from their parking lot. One of my favorite moments from that wedding was when everyone was standing at the head table while "Shut Up and Dance" was playing, so I made everyone dance for pictures and got all of their guests cheering for them. Justin and I celebrated 6 years together, and our anniversary weekend is always made special because the fair comes to town. I went twice this year—once with Tammy, Cora and Hayden to see all the animals, and then went back later that night with Abby so we could take pictures of the lights and watch the sunset. August was pretty much the best.

SEPTEMBER 2018

And then came September, when the trauma monster came back in full force. I hosted a fall picture day event with Next Stop Kids Shop after how well the spring event went, but this time NO ONE bought tickets. My Instagram feed turned into an #annalovesmornings gallery while I spiraled in imposter syndrome. "If nobody wants pictures for TWENTY DOLLARS, who is going to pay me for their wedding?" I coped by taking self-portraits through pretty lace and window light. I found solace in quiet time spent goal setting in my planner and made the decision to start investing in my education again. I took a bunch of free webinars on how to find your ideal client, how to up your social media presence, and joined a Facebook group about ditching the digital files and finding a print lab. My pretty, glittery Pink Skies Up Ahead phone case leaked in my pocket and gave me a chemical burn on my leg which resulted in an ER visit and some pretty angry emails to ban.do. My friend Becca had her baby and we did newborn pictures inside Next Stop Kids Shop. I got a chase more sunsets hat to inspire me and inject joy into the days when it was all I could do to get out of bed at all.

OCTOBER 2018

In October, I really decided to put money into my education. I invested in Jenna Kutcher's course, The Instagram Lab, and I invested in a Jenni Maroney course called Money Maker that came with 3 video chat mentoring sessions. I was so excited to get started and see if I could really make a go at this since I had entered my "slow season" once the weather started getting cooler. Justin turned 32. Abby and I took pictures together on one of the last warm days. I did fall mini sessions in Burlington, which I had to reschedule because the weekend I was supposed to down originally, I got the flu. It was 40 degrees and everyone was chilly, but the final products turned out pretty good. My trip to Burlington also included getting to see my mom's new kitchen for the first time, and a trip to the Garden Center to make dried flower paperweights! (I also came home with a chest cold.) My fall mini sessions were the first ones I started offering prints with instead of just digital files. I got giant welcome packs with sample paper types and started trying to figure out ROES. I dove into my online classes and tried to use my One Little Word for this year (Intent) to help me build this business in a smart way.

NOVEMBER 2018

I started Christmas shopping with plans to go home and see my family for Thanksgiving-Christmas since it was my year to spend Christmas with Justin's family. I started my series of mentoring calls with Jenni Maroney. We fixed my mess of a website, and she made me set a goal of booking fifteen weddings for next year to meet my salary goals. (I am currently at two.) I made a doctor's appointment when that chest cold I thought I had just wouldn't go away. I was feverish and my ribs and my shoulder hurt. I started coughing up blood-tinged phlegm and I knew something was wrong. She had me get a chest x-ray, diagnosed me with community acquired pneumonia, prescribed a round of antibiotics, and we made a follow-up appointment for three weeks later to see how I was doing. This was the Monday before Thanksgiving. I ended up staying in Waupaca for Thanksgiving and FaceTiming with my family instead because I just felt really sick even after starting my antibiotics. It was fun though: we ate pie with breakfast (kind of seems like a no-brainer), and I sat at the kitchen table with my coloring books and giant pack of gel pens with Cora and Tammy. Low-key holidays are my favorite.

DECEMBER 2018

We set everything up for Christmas on December 2. I took Christmas light pictures to celebrate. On December 3, I coughed up blood when I woke up that morning and had been doing the same thing before going to bed the night before. I called my doctor to see if they could get me in any earlier and they said no and transferred me to a triage nurse. The nurse told me to get to the ER ASAP. Justin called his mom out of work to take me to Steven's Point where I got a CT scan and was told, "You have a mass in your lung and there's fluid surrounding your lung. We want to do a bronchoscopy, but don't have the technology to do it here so we're transferring you to Wausau!" Into the ambulance I went. I had my bronchoscopy done the next day where they took biopsies of my lymph nodes to make sure I didn't have cancer. They weren't able to get through the mass to get their sample so the next day I had a guided biopsy done where they numbed my ribs and went in through there with a giant needle to get their sample. After that my ribs got numbed again so they could stick another needle in me to drain the fluid from around my lung. On Thursday, they diagnosed me with blastomycosis and said that if I had waited very much longer to come in it would have killed me. I started IV anti-fungal meds, and they gave me a PICC line IV instead of a normal one so I could do infusions and have blood at home for two weeks. They sprang me free on Friday and I had a follow up appointment two weeks after that to get my IV out and so they could run my labs again. Now I'm on anti-fungal meds for an entire year and get to have CT scans taken every 4 months until the infection is gone. I made homemade Chex Mix for Christmas this year, and Justin and I had pizza for dinner in lieu of going to his grandma's house for Christmas dinner. We all opened presents in our pajamas and everyone got me coloring books this year! I've spent the last week dreaming big and working down to set my goals 2019 and picking my One Little Word for next year. 

Overall, 2018, you were pretty great with the exceptions of all my hospital bills. I transformed this year. It's been six months and I can still confidently say that getting out of fast food and diving into my business was the best decision I made this year. I had twenty sessions in 2018—three weddings, eight families (some were repeat clients!), and a handful of shoots with Abby and my other friends. I love the images I've been able to create this year, the trips I got to take, and all the fun I've had this year. The pockets of joy are way more frequent now than they were in January, or maybe they just feel that way because I'm not stressed to the max anymore and suffering from extreme burnout. I'm so thankful for everything this year has brought, even the blastomycosis—it forced me to relax and rest and take time off from thinking about work all the time. But also, I'm so excited to get better. ;)

Cheers, 2018. Show us what you're made of, 2019!

chasing joy > being cold

The rush and sense of joy that comes from doing what you love far outweighs the amount of times you say, "Holy CRAP, it's cold!" while taking pictures. This was my last shoot with Abby for the year. I'm really proud of her and watching the progress she's made in the last six months that we've been taking pictures together. I can't wait to sit down and edit the rest of the photos we took today. This set was inspired by Julie Paisley and her awesome half-face portraits.

(You're the first to see this sneak peek, Blogland. These aren't going live anywhere else until Sunday!)

me? swear? never.

My swear word coloring book brings me an overwhelming sense of joy. In a good way. The kind that makes you smile when you can absolutely make a glittery rubber duck and a pink owl. The phrases are pretty fun too. I’m getting a pretty good use out of my Christmas presents already. I love the nights that I spend with Justin’s sister coloring in the kitchen. They’re so good for the soul. 

christmas 2018

We had a very low-key Christmas this year. Justin’s mom and I drank coffee (of course). We opened presents on Christmas morning in our pajamas. Hayden loved his Micky Mouse pillow we got for him and Justin’s mom loved the coffee cup I got for her. I skipped Christmas dinner at Tammy’s mom house to hang out with Justin and eat pizza, watch Naruto, and we literally stayed in our pj’s all day. I FaceTimed with my family back in Burlington after they ate dinner. Cora and Tammy got me coloring books for Christmas, and I got Cora coloring books for Christmas... so we ended the night with Melissa, drinking wine, and coloring in our Christmas presents. Did I mention low-key holidays are MY FAV?

magic sky

I had a mentoring call with Jenni Maroney this morning and they always leave me feeling inspired and ready to get out there and do the damn thing. I've been beating myself up for taking the last couple of weeks off to rest and recuperate from my blastomycosis, but today I realized that beating myself up won't get me that time back. The best thing that I can do is just move forward. Keep getting better physically so that I have the energy to really put my best foot forward and serve my clients the best way that I can in this business of mine. The cotton candy sunset tonight proved it. Keep the glass half-full and you'll get magic in return.

currently, december edition

recovering from a severe lung infection called blastomycosis with a dash of histoplasmosis

enjoying being out of the hospital and home where I belong!

not so much enjoying daily IV infusions and twice a week home healthcare visits for blood draws

counting down until Thursday when I get my PICC line out & get to see my docs for an update

thanking myself for getting health insurance... my new anti-fungal meds would've cost me $600 every month without it(!!)

wearing my new Chase the Joy necklace every single day

living in pj pants & my favorite t-shirts since getting home from the hospital

finishing last minute Christmas shopping

mailing out my client gifts from Vinyl Heads Custom Designs

watching Z: the beginning of everything on amazon

reading looking for alsaka like I'm sixteen again

musing over life and death and what happens to the people who are left behind

trying to draft end of the year wrap ups and figure out my one little word for next year

prepping for a mentoring call with Jenni Maroney on Wednesday

looking forward to finishing this year strong and making 2019 the best year yet

hospital bound

I was diagnosed with pneumonia the week of Thanksgiving. My doctor prescribed me a round of oral antibiotics and sent me on my merry way, back to normal life and the excitement over the upcoming holiday. My diagnosis meant that I wasn’t able to spend Thanksgiving with my family like we planned this year, but we face timed and got to talk to each other like I was actually in my aunt and uncle’s home with the rest of my loved ones. The antibiotics kicked my fevers, night sweats, chills and shakes, but a cough that just won’t quit still lingered. 

On Sunday night before I went to bed, I coughed up a pretty substantial amount of blood. The same thing happened on Monday morning when I woke up. Justin urged me to call my doctor and see if they could fit me in any earlier than next week for my follow-ups as planned. I was unable to get an appointment, but they had me talk to a triage nurse on the phone who urged me not to wait—get to the ER as soon as you possibly can, preferably within the hour. Justin called his mom out of work to take me, and I hastily dragged a brush through my hair and pulled my boots on, trying to tame the anxiety that was already starting to run rampant in my brain.

Hospitals these days always remind me of my dad, and when I was coughing up blood and phlegm and riding in the car for half an hour with Justin’s mom, all I could think was, “Please, God, don’t let me end up like my dad.” We were on our way to the hospital in Stevens Point where I would soon be ushered into an ER care room and taken for a CT scan with contrast. The doctors poked and prodded at me, and eventually came back with my results.

“You have a mass in your right lung and fluid surrounding it. We want to do a bronchoscopy, but we don’t have the technology to do it here so we have transfer you to Wausau.”

The entire 40-minute ambulance ride up to Wausau, I prayed that I didn’t have cancer. I had lost my grandma on my mom’s side and my dad to different types of lung cancer less than a year apart from each other. My seven year smoking habit didn’t really help matters either. That little voice in the back of my head reminded me that once my dad entered the hospital, he never came out. Worry gnawed at my heart as I anxiously awaited both the doctors to examine me and for my people to come sit with me. Being alone in a hospital is never something I’ve dealt with very well. 

When I was born, I was only 27 weeks and weighed 2 lbs. My dad could literally hold me in the palm of his hand. I spent the first 2 months and 10 days of my life with the hospital where I was born being the only home I knew. I had heart surgery at 10 days old to close the PDA valve in my heart with a metal clip that I still carry the scar from to this day. I was the tiny baby in the incubator, hooked up to all sorts of wires and machines. Once they took me off the ventilators and replaced them with cannulas and tubes up my nose, I figured out how to scoot down in my incubator and set off all my bells and whistles that would send my team of nurses rushing in to hook me back up to the machines. I just wanted to breathe on my own, and I suppose loneliness may have been a factor there as well. I just wanted human contact, but it also serves as concrete proof that from day one, I knew what it took to be a fighter and stake your claim in this world. 

Over the last few days, I’ve had all the good veins in my left arm exhausted from drawing blood. They’ve stuck tubes and cameras down my throat and into my chest, trying to figure out what the mass in my right lung is exactly. They’ve taken biopsies of my lymph nodes and stuck two giant needles in between my ribs to get samples of the blockages inside and the fluid that was pooling around my lung. I’ve gone over and over my family’s history of cancer, heart attacks and my own recent non-intentional weight loss since my dad died and the pneumonia made it worse.

The only answers that I have so far are, “Well, we don’t think it’s cancer, just an extraordinarily bad case of pneumonia” based on inflammatory tissue samples and signs of infection in the fluid they removed from around my lung. 

Justin’s mom drove him an hour one-way to come stay at the hospital with me. My mom and aunt drove four hours to come and make sure I’m okay. Being surrounded by family, both biological and the one that I’ve chosen to be with forever, feels like a gift. My dad was the one who showed up for me when I had my gallbladder taken out in 2014. He drove for five hours round-trip just to spend half an hour with me, picking me up from the hospital and running me around town to get my meds before taking me home. It means the world to me that I still have people I can count on now that he is gone. 

I’m supposed to go home on Thursday while we wait for the results of all my biopsies and tests that they’ve been running. To be honest, I can’t wait to go home and snuggle with the cats and sleep in my own bed again. In the meantime, I’m trying to soak up all the goodness that this experience has brought me instead of worrying how I’m going to pay for all of it once everything is said and done. The nurses and staff that I’ve met here have been amazing. Truly slowing down and taking the necessary time to rest has been good for my soul. And nothing beats getting to spend time with the ones I love the most. 

bokeh galore

I can't resist Christmas lights this time of year. My camera roll will probably be full of shots exactly like these for the rest of the month and I'm not mad about it. As long as I have pneumonia and I'm stuck inside anyway, might as well take advantage of the pretty lights while they last. (Though I'm supposed to shoot at a Christmas tree farm on Saturday in ~20* degree weather... we'll see how that goes!)

we need a little christmas

Today we dug the Christmas tree out of the closet and decorated the house for the holidays. Surprisingly, all of our strings of lights worked and there were only three ornaments without hooks on them. It’s been snowing since yesterday afternoon and I’m guessing we got 4-5 inches altogether. All of my Christmas shopping is done except for Justin. (Side note: why is it SO HARD to shop for the person who knows you the best?) I’m starting to get into the holiday spirit and I’m excited to see what the last month of 2018 has in store for us. Happy December!

on ten years

On Monday morning, I texted my best friend as soon as I woke up. Something about November 26 always leaves the taste of vinegar and honey lodged in the back of my throat. "I can't believe it's been ten years and how different everything is now."

She texted me back and said, "I'm so so proud of you. We are doing good. You're doing good."

Ten years ago was just a normal Wednesday. I went to school like any other day. Everyone was restless after coming back from Thanksgiving break. I couldn't tell you what I was wearing or what I had for breakfast that day, but I can tell you this: it started like any other day and ended with me breaking down the walls of my brokenness for the first time.

Mrs. Lovrine's Family Living and Parenting class. (Yeah, the class where you take home the fake baby doll for a night. Anything to get out of the pacer test, which was required if you took health instead. Good old BHS.) We were discussing relationships and the red flags of abuse that everyone swears up and down they see and won't let happen to them. (Oh to be sixteen and ignorant again.) My brain went a few different places during her lecture. Instead of taking notes, I thought about my first love and friendships that had dissolved right before my eyes earlier that year. The raw emotions that come out when experiencing heartbreak for the first time. The sadness that always comes with letting go and settling for a small wave when you occasionally bump into each other outside the radio station or in the cafeteria at school.

Those overwhelming emotions spilled over into another world entirely. I was caught in a flashback, trapped between my classmates who were more doodling and zoning out than listening, with forty minutes until the lunch bell rang. The chair I was sitting on didn't feel real. Everything faded around me and was replaced with a movie in my head that I had seen too many times. Trapped in a little pup tent, experiencing things beyond my maturity level that at fourteen I wasn't prepared to handle. "Nice shoes, wanna fuck?" and always ended with my abuser saying my name, over and over again until it had lost all meaning to me. The panic attacks in chemistry class the year before because seeing him in the hallways at school was too much. The loss of my best friends since middle school and my first love all in the same breath because they all just kept telling me to forget about what happened and get better like it was a magic switch I could toggle on and off. It was too much.

It was all too. Much. I promised my friends I would meet them in the cafeteria when the bell finally rang for lunch, but I had something to do first. I all but ran to the guidance office, fearing that if I didn't at least request a meeting I would lose my nerve and not do anything at all. I signed in with shaky hands and prayed that I could find the courage to summon the words for everything that happened.

Opening up the trauma floodgates has brought so many amazing things into my life. From that moment in my high school counselor's office, I started embracing the freedom that comes from speaking your truth. I reported my abuser for that night in 2006 right there in the guidance office. I started going to therapy and working toward naming my demons instead of trying to run away from them. My therapist diagnosed me with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and the relief that came from finally having a name for what I had been experiencing was immeasurable. It meant that I wasn't going crazy like everyone around me had convinced me I was.

In summer 2009, I was given the opportunity to attend the annual Writing and Thinking Workshop at Lake Forest College in Illinois. It was there, writing with purpose for six hours every day, where I was finally able to say what had happened to me out loud: I am a survivor of sexual abuse. I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and every single day, I am working to overcome the civil war that my brain wages against me. I am doing everything I can to work toward empowerment and recovery to take back this bright, happy, overflowing life that I know I am capable of living over my abuser.

One of the advisors asked me why my trauma was all I ever wrote about in the pieces I shared with everyone. I didn't really have an answer for him in the moment, but now I realize that it all comes down to this: once you experience something that strangles your voice, you'll do everything in your power to take it back. In 2011, I gave a speech to a small group of girls at my high school who were going through similar experiences. I told them my story and hoped to give them the encouragement to speak up about their hardships instead of suffering through them alone. Once you're able to harness your voice again, sometimes the only thing you want to do is help others who are going through the same thing.

After speaking my truth out loud, I dove into photography. I took a few of my friend's senior pictures and started my 365 self-portrait project that ultimately helped me find my true love in this craft. Through my visual archives, I've been able to catalog growth and progress where I wasn't able to see it happening in real-time. Looking through all of those images now touches a tender spot in my heart that aches for the pain my younger self didn't have the courage to express out loud.

So much of the recovery process is taking everything day-by-day, one step at a time (or an hour at a time, as my therapist so gently reminded me at the beginning of all of this). Carving out a life for yourself when you're still in the mud of trauma is hard work that comes with more ups and downs than a roller coaster. You'll feel bombarded by the statistics, knowing you are the one in every four girls that experience this kind of trauma before they even turn eighteen. Playing a guessing game with your own self-doubt when you're still not entirely sure who you are as a person opens up pathways to new traumas entirely, but also offers the opportunity for rebirth to give you a new beginning.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel. You can just barely see it when you're first starting out, but it's there and it's worth working toward. Don't lose sight of that light. It will buoy you through your darkest moments, all those sleepless nights where you lie awake at night questioning every decision you have ever made. With time, you'll gain distance from your broken self and that light that you've been working toward will become brighter and brighter until the tunnel shatters completely. You'll shield your eyes from the sun, not believing for a second that you're really in the light. It's time to thrive now and leave the past behind, exactly where it belongs.