The Labyrinth of Life

Finding Light on the Winding Path

There is a plethora of of thoughts swirling around my hippocampus as I sit down to write—pieces of my journey, fragments of joy and pain, all woven into a life that has shaped me into who I am today. It’s been a winding path, full of lessons, growth, and unexpected beauty. And at the centre of it all are my greatest blessings: my daughters—SL, LL, and FO.

Becoming a mother was the most humbling and transformative experience of my life. These girls are radiant—intelligent, emotional, strong, graceful, and full of heart. Through them, I’ve learned

the truest form of love: unwavering, unconditional, and constantly evolving. Nothing could have prepared me for what motherhood would teach me—not books, not advice, not planning. The journey has challenged me, stretched me, and redefined me—but in the most meaningful ways.

From Chaos to Clarity

My childhood, as I experienced it, was shaped by instability and trauma. While there were moments of light, they were often overshadowed by fear and uncertainty. For those who grew up with steady love and safety, it’s hard to understand what that kind of chaos does to a child. The lasting effects of a turbulent upbringing are real—and I’ve carried them for years.

It used to sting when people spoke of partners who came from “good homes,” like that automatically made someone more worthy. I wanted to scream, “I’m worthy, too.” But I’ve come to understand that what I lacked in early life taught me things others may never grasp—like grit, compassion, and the deep desire to do better for the next generation.

My grandparents, KB & MB were the safe harbour in my storm. Their love and presence gave me a sense of family, of calm. When they passed, the thread that held our family close began to fray. But their legacy still anchors me. I carry their love like a lantern through the dark.

Letting the Past Be a Chapter—Not the Whole Book

There were chapters of my childhood I spent alone, both physically and emotionally. Recalling them used to feel like reopening old wounds, but I’ve done the work. I’ve stopped letting those memories define me. My past is a part of me, but it’s not all of me.

Healing has taught me a powerful truth: for every one negative experience, our brain needs five positive ones to balance it. That’s how hard it is to hold onto joy—but that’s also how powerful our effort to choose light can be. I’m learning to do just that—hold onto the good, fiercely.

Understanding My Roots with Grace

My parents loved me. I never doubted that. But their struggles with addiction shaped my world in ways that took years to untangle. There were times I wondered what life could have looked like, but I’ve come to peace with what was. Every experience led me here—to a place of awareness, acceptance, and growth.

I No Longer Shrink to Fit

I’ve spent too much of my life trying to shape-shift into someone more “acceptable,” more “lovable.” I’m done with that. I know who I am now—and I stand in it fully. I’m loyal, passionate, curious, loving, intelligent, and bold. I’ve created relationships that reflect that truth, people who love me as I am—not as who they want me to be.

Special thanks to KR, TR, TD, SLS Family, LW —your acceptance and love helped me see myself through a softer, more forgiving lens.

Motherhood, Mistakes, and Redemption

Being a mother hasn’t always been easy, and at times, I’ve felt misunderstood. I’ve made mistakes. I’ve carried fears. And I’ve let those fears lead me off course. But I’ve never stopped loving my children with everything I have.

If I could go back and do some things differently, I would—but I also honor the truth that I did the best I could with what I had at the time. I’m still learning. I’m still growing. And that, too, is love in action.

To my daughters: One day, when you become mothers yourselves, I hope these words give you perspective, compassion, and strength. I hope they help you understand me—and yourselves—a little better.

Finding the Light in the Labyrinth

There were seasons I walked this path alone—confused, afraid, aching for guidance I couldn’t seem to find. I thought I needed miracles, but what I really needed was connection. Healing. Truth.

And that’s what I’ve found.

The labyrinth of life isn’t meant to be navigated in isolation. We need each other. We need compassion. We need to believe that no matter how lost we feel, there is a way through.

To My Daughters, Always

I have always loved you.

I will always love you.

No matter the distance, no matter the mistakes, no matter the changes—my love is your constant.

Always.