We all have dreams when we are young, it’s the matter of how much we actually follow through. I know that when I was a child, I wanted to be a Dr, and heal people because I had childhood illnesses. Something about making a difference to others, has always been etched in my mind. While that that didn’t end up happening, I still help people with my words, to heal, laugh or cry. You make the biggest impact in ways that the naked eye can’t quite see. It’s called digging a little deeper, being thankful for the opportunities you have given so far life.

Growing up in a single parent home wasn’t as bad as one would think. I was an only child (my one sibling Dru passed away before birth), so I was given the best of my Mom. She always told me, there are things in life that are truly not fair, but I could overcome them with my fiery spirit. Being part of a family that had a military member, my grandfather aka my Dad, enabled me to see parts of the country at a young age. Traveling from Tampa, California and my favorite which was Phoenix, I lived like a little princess. That was complete with my oversized bed, that reminded me of Cinderella. Despite the circumstances of my life, I’ve never truly gone without. I’m thankful for the trip to Disney, the house that I lived in and loved, and making Rice Krispy treats with my Mumzy. These are memories that I hold very close to my heart, sometimes I keep them locked. I share them now because it’s important to understand who I was, before I became the person I am.

As I grew up, my love of reading and writing has always been in the forefront. I’m very book smart, but I don’t use my intelligence to overshadow others, I would share what I know. I would write short stories and dream of one day, putting everything I knew into words, maybe a book. Back then, Scholastic book fairs were a thing (I’m a child of the 80-90’s era lol) and I would always get the most difficult books, curl up with them at night. It was then at age 8, I realized how much I loved the art of creation. Flash forward to junior high, where I was in Honors classes and was still writing, now submitting my work to the school paper. I’ve always had a different perspective on how I used my words. Whether it was using ones that no one knew, or putting my own spin on it, I loved knowledge. By the time I hit high school, I was writing damn near books in the dreaded APA format. Every time I would get my grades back on my papers, I remember relishing those A’s. We all know that we have to grow up, and reality was college.

College was well, a larger version of high school with the same people, but also a time to break out of my shell. I’ve always social to a point, but since I was a geek, not a true athlete, people usually ignored me. That was until they realized how smart I was , and I would tutor those who struggled with English and Business classes. I guess that was my way of fitting in during my awkward 18-22 phase. What also changed was my writing skills and style. It wasn’t just a guaranteed A anymore. There were times when I got back papers, that had be revised over and over again. I would cry because something I loved, was turning into something I resented. It was a fine line between childhood stories and adult non fiction, that was expected of me. I think that’s when of love of writing died.

My mom got sick during that time, so my journey of school ended, and the rollercoaster ride of my life began. You don’t truly know what sacrifice is until you have to make that choice. At 21 I was still trying to find myself, instead I started to drown. I kept my head above water the 10+ years. To watch my gentle giant Mom slowly slip away from me, was very difficult. I think of how it began and how it influenced my way of thinking and feeling. A lot of time I was very numb, taking in all of these big procedures she had, Googling as much as I could before I signed for consent. What were the odds, would she survive, would it mean being in the hospital, we’re all questions I asked repeatedly. I never expected to be her proxy so young, but you make of the best of what you are given, even if is the unknown.

Now in my 30’s losing my Mom 5.5 years ago, I rediscovered my love for writing. It goes back to her teaching me and 2 years old how to read and write my name. I’ve never looked back since, my writing gives me the ability to feel free, it’s hard to explain. It’s like when you go to beach, another one of my favorite things and you go the waves, you dig your feet in sand and it suctions. You feel the movement, but you hold your ground, as the water goes through your toes and back out of the ocean. I love that feeling, and when I was younger it almost killed me, rip tide pulled me and friend out, and I was never forget the terrifying feeling of I might not make it back. Thank god for the surfer and my Mom’s ability to give me the courage to fight the waves and come back to her. I’ve never talked about before or at least put it into words. The coldness of that water and rise of it over my head, that’s something I’ve never forgotten. I’ve always battled the odds, and for the most part I’ve won. Going back to my writing, this year and feeling like I can finally let go of everything that has held me back so long. I see the true me emerging from the waves, I’ve caught my breath finally.

As I continue to grow as individual, going into my 40s in less than 2 years, I continue to reflect. I’ve gone through hell and back, several times and learned life isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. Lost the most important person in my life, which left me shattered and questioning God and any other being. January before the virus took over, was the last time that I felt lost. I really took the time to finally let go of the grief and anger that was bottled up for long, I said a prayer and went forward. Exactly 2 days before the anniversary of my mother’s death, those prayers were answered, and it has transformed me into who I am now. One of those two things was self love, something that I had truly stopped doing. Going through of motions of life and even the happiest moments always seemed like a mute point. That’s not to say I’ve never been happy, I think I’ve always held emotions of what people expected of me. That night I decided to live for ME.

I enrolled and completed my 200 RYT and I am certified, created this space with my love of writing and my ability to speak through my words. My podcast is the other place that I get to share bits and pieces of my life, with you. As I continue to grow as a person, who truly loves herself now, I hope to inspire to do the same. I know that life has many twist and turns, etc but that doesn’t mean give up the fight. You have to learn to approach it head on sometimes, you peel away the layers of what’s in front of you. Ask yourself, how can I improve the way I see things? Mine personally was when I could truly smile again, and laugh without suppressing my feelings. I can walk with head held high, because I know my worth. When I finally decided to snap out of my grief and depression and walk away from what no longer served me, I was weight off my chest. My life is far from perfect, but it’s slowly coming together. It’s amazing what happens to you when the awakening happens, whether it’s mental or spiritual, hold on for the ride, watch the work in progress, and rebuild the jewel that you are. Shine on my friends.

Take Care,

Taaury37