Health, Lifestyle, My Life

The Parasite Living Inside Me: My Lyme Disease Story

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Me waiting in the doctor’s office during the COVID-19 pandemic

There is a parasite living inside of me.

It’s been there since I was 10 years old. I have very few memories before this parasite was a part of my life. And yet, for much of the last 10 years, I didn’t even realize it was still there, burrowing into the tissues of my body, making itself a home in a place it didn’t belong.

I have Post-Lyme Disease Syndrome (PLDS), a disease that, until the last few years, was thought to not be real. Because of this, the last decade of my life has been consumed by trying to figure out & treat whatever was causing so much insufferable pain & fatigue.

I had high moments, of course. There would be times when a treatment would work, & I would have a few great months. But then a flare would rear its ugly head without me realizing what was happening. It was frustrating, knowing that I was seemingly doing everything right to be healthy. The problem was, I was treating the wrong illnesses. Without the correct name for what I had, I was exhausted trying to treat 12 different misdiagnoses that had been given to explain my symptoms.

Lyme Disease is caused by the bacterium Borrelia burgdorferi. It is transmitted to humans through the bite of an infected tick. It is one of the most common vector-borne diseases, & yet, it is under-researched & under-studied, meaning many people go years without realizing they have it. This is troubling, because the more time people have Lyme disease, the harder it is to fight.

This was the case for me. We now believe Lyme disease could have been living inside of me for years without me knowing. This is because Lyme Disease likes to mimic other illnesses, making it difficult to catch. In addition to this, the testing for Lyme Disease is flawed in many ways. Lyme Disease is discovered through antibody testing, which makes it all too common for a patient to have Lyme Disease & still test negative for it because their immune system had not created enough antibodies on its own to fight the infection.

Photo by Erik Karits on Unsplash

Back when I had Lyme Disease, we knew much less than we do now. Knowing what I know now, I should have received much more antibiotic therapy than I did, but at the time, it was believed the customary two weeks of antibiotics was sufficient. When my pain, fatigue, headaches, & insomnia returned just a short six months later, the doctors insisted i was fine & just wanted attention. It took another year to finally convince them I was truly in pain. It was then that I received my first misdiagnosis of fibromyalgia.

A few years passed, during which I paid little attention to my worsening condition. I became less active, succumbing to my pain, but that gave me an opportunity to thrive in my more artistic passions.

It wasn’t until high school that I noticed the brain fog, although, at the time, I didn’t have a name for it. I simply noticed that my mind was not what it used to be. As an avid reader & writer, it was odd to me that my reading comprehension was not up to par with my classmates. My memory continued to work properly, which meant, in the American education system of memorizing & regurgitating facts, my grades were still exemplary. But anytime I was asked to think abstractly, my famously creative brain failed to think through even simple problems or equations.

In my junior year of high school, my symptoms hit an all-time low. I had developed a number of food allergies, as is common with Lyme patients, & my gut health was suffering tremendously. I was diagnosed with IBS & leaky gut, but none of the treatments ever seemed to work (in fact, they only seemed to make my symptoms worse), so after a while, I refused any prescription pills. In addition to this, my anxiety seemed to heighten, & anything that deviated from my regular schedule sent me into a tight-chested panic attack. I thought it was simply stress-induced, brought on by having to deal with difficult illnesses. Compared to my physical symptoms, I felt it was less important & paid little attention to it.

Me on the first day of my senior year of high school.

In college, my symptoms finally found some relief. I cleaned up my diet even more than I had before, & I found a holistic doctor who treated my symptoms in the first way that ever worked. Exercise helped tremendously. I got off every prescription medication I had been taking, & for the first time in years, I felt relaxed & free. My senior year in college was bliss. I felt healthy, carefree & strong. I signed up & trained to run across the country. I met the love of my life. I ate whatever I wanted, went out with friends, & enjoyed every moment of beginning my adult life.

The thing about Lyme disease is you never know when a flare is coming. The unhealthy eating, long training runs, & lack of sleep finally caught up with me, & the flare came at the worst possible time – while running to help those in need. While my teammates were supportive, without the diagnosis or words to describe what was happening to them, I struggled with feelings of loneliness & misunderstanding.

My 4K for Cancer team on the final day of our run. Over 49 days, we relayed across the country, from San Francisco to Baltimore.

When I returned, I felt beaten & hopeless. I cleaned up my diet again, started taking my supplements, but it just didn’t seem to work. My brain was worse than before – I was stuttering over my words & mispeaking. Once able to capture a room full of people with 20-minute long speeches, all done without notes of any kind, I was now struggling to find words on the tip of my tongue in frequent conversations.

Answers finally came just a few months ago. After years of searching, months of talking to doctors & going to appointments yet again, I received the diagnosis I had been waiting for. I had treatment that finally helped. The right diet, the right supplements, & the recommendation to make self-care & sleep a priority rather than a luxury actually made a difference.

As of now, it doesn’t seem I will ever be symptom-free. At this point, PSLD, at least in my case, can be characterized as an auto-immune disease. When Lyme flares, I can try my best to fight the bug, but Lyme is a spirochete, meaning it has a spiral shape that makes it easy to hide in tissues of the body. When Lyme is hiding, my immune system is depleted, so the best I can actually do is not continue to break down my body by trying to kill the Lyme, but to boost my immune system as much possible. This, in turn, will reduce inflammation, improve my digestion, &, in the end, help me to feel healthy, as if there is nothing wrong. And if Lyme ever does flare, I know what to do to fight it back.

It’s been a long journey getting here, one that I normally don’t like to think about or share. But since learning my diagnosis, I have met so many other people who have struggled with it, & I have realized I am not alone. Which means there must be so many other people out there feeling the same way that I did, & sometimes still do. And I want to let you know that you are not alone, & that this illness does not define you. It is part of your story, but it doesn’t even have to be the worst part.

Like the plot twists & challenges in any story, it’s not what happens in the plot line but how we respond to it that makes us who we are. And we are warriors. Lyme has made me stronger, more resilient, & more patient than I ever would have been. But most importantly, I am more empathetic, more kind, & more compassionate. And that is why I am sharing my story. I want my blog to be a safe space, where people, no matter what it is that has shaped their story, can find a safe & supportive community.

Lyme changed my life, but it doesn’t have to define it. What I do with my life will define it, & all I want to do with my life is to bring a little more love & kindness into this world. I believe that love, truly, is what heals most. I could not be where I am in my journey now without the love I have in my life, from my family, my friends, & from Joseph. Love truly does heal all wounds. The love we extend to others has greater value than we will ever know.

The one thing I felt Lyme took from me was my self-worth. For so many years, I felt shame about my illness. I was embarrassed to share my story. I thought no one would want to hear it, & I didn’t want it to be what I was known for. But now, as I have said, I have learned love is what is most important. So, as much as this blog post is for you, it’s for me, too.

This is a letter to myself. It’s finally remembering my story in every painstaking detail, & it’s telling myself that it’s okay. It’s okay to be me. Its okay what happened to me. I still have value, & I am still worthy of love.

My blog is a safe place, for me & for you. If you need a reminder of your self-worth, of your value, pay this blog a visit.

No matter what your story, you are worthy of love. And I want to share with you what I am just now beginning to learn – the best love you will ever have is the love that you give to yourself.

There is a parasite living inside of me, but I am in charge of my body. And today I am choosing to show my body respect & gratitude for all it has done, & love for the strong & resilient body it is today.

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Lifestyle, My Life

Finding self-confidence: A snip of my life story

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Me during my senior year of high school, my hair freshly cut into a pixie cut.

Note: This piece was written while I was in college & my hair was cut short in a pixie cut. This is the first time I have shared this story.

My fingers absentmindedly stroke through my short pixie cut as I work on a project. I often forget that my hair is short. When I close my eyes and imagine myself, I still have the long, curly locks that I had years ago. But my hair is now thin, straight, and cut close to my scalp.

I tap my fingers restlessly against my keyboard, unable to think of what to type next in my essay. My teeth snag on my inner cheek, a nervous tick I picked up years ago when I was told it was not proper to chew on my hair or nails. In high school, I used to tear at that skin during exams until I tasted blood. I have scars now on both sides of my mouth, just behind my lips.

I try to twirl a lock of my hair, once again forgetting that it is shorter now than it used to be. My hand falls by my side, my fingers itching for something to play with.

I look up and gaze at my reflection in the nearby window. Wide, hazel eyes stare out beneath the dark hair. I should have worn make-up today. With my hair so short and my body so small, I could easily pass for a boy. I should have at least put product in my hair so it didn’t fall flat onto my head.

But, I am alone. Who would I be dressing up for? My reflection doesn’t care what I look like.

Why do I care so much about what my hair looks like?

My mom giving me a perm during my fifth grade year. I had always wanted curly hair.

My first thought is that my mother is a cosmetologist. I grew up where the phrase, “Go do something with your hair,” was as common as, “What is the weather supposed to be like tomorrow?” My life stages were marked by what my hair looked like, starting with the moment I was born with a head full of hair so dark brown it looked black; to my first haircut at two months old; to when my hair turned into a frizzy, curly mess in middle school; to when it started to fall out and became a reflection of my life falling apart. Stories from my childhood are frequented with plots about my hair: The first time my hair was washed as a baby and my mother was confused as to why it kept curling even though she got all of the soap out. The time when my mother came to school for Career Day and cut my hair in front of the class. The time when I cut my long hair into a bob, and my aunt and grandmother pestered me about it until I grew it down my back again. For every event in my life, the question was always, “What are you going to do with your hair?” Too many times I was on my way out of the house, only to be forced into my mother’s salon chair so she could iron my hair.

But when I really think about it, I am not all that unique in caring about what my hair looks like. It seems to be what is on everyone’s mind. Thanks to having a mother who did my hair growing up, I know very little about how to do it myself. Now, it tends to be that however it looks when I wake up is how it looks all day. But friends of mine wake up hours early just to curl or straighten their hair before going to school. People express themselves with their hair choices, either by cutting it in creative fashions, or not cutting it at all. People dye their hair bubblegum pink, electric blue, or midnight black to send a message. Women flood into salons every day to pretend they haven’t aged in years and dye their hair the golden blonde of their youth. In faiths around the world, women cover their hair to show modesty.

Hair is a strong influencer in the stories we hear, too. Strong female characters in books chop off their hair before going into battle. Princesses in Disney movies grow their hair long to attract a prince. Mythological characters use their hair as a weapon. Biblical characters lose their power when their hair is chopped off.

And when we think our hair doesn’t look great, it’s often the first thing we apologize for when we see someone.

“I’m having a bad hair day,” we mumble, as if drawing more attention to what everyone can obviously see will make matters better for us. And bad hair days often just seem to become bad days in general. If our hair isn’t doing well, neither are we.

When someone suddenly drastically changes their hair, it can be a desperate attempt for control during a time of trauma.

Why do we care so much about our hair? Why do we identify with it? What does it represent to us that other physical characteristics seem to lack?

Me in college when I decided to be a red head for a season

The interesting thing about hair is that we don’t just change it to reflect what we are feeling, or rather, what we want the world to perceive we are feeling. Sometimes, our hair changes to reflect what’s really going on inside of us.

For instance, when we hit puberty, our hair often changes texture. As we age, as much as we may try to fight it, our hair grays. It can also turn gray when we are going through a particularly stressful period in our lives. And sometimes, if we get sick, our hair can fall right off of our heads.

I remember the first time it happened. Eyes closed, showering, I felt a clump of it release into my palm. It wound its way around my fingers, clinging desperately to my wet skin. My breath hitched in my throat. My heart pounded in my ears as I stared at my hand in disbelief. I desperately worked at trying to untangle the hairs from my fingers. If I could dispose of the evidence, perhaps it would be as if it never happened.

But it continued to happen again and again. In the shower, as I brushed through my hair, as I cleaned out the drains in the bathroom, as I picked at my clothes, clumps of hair appeared throughout my daily life. I remember the day I ran my fingers through my hair to pull it back into a ponytail, only to freeze in shock. I stared at my reflection in the mirror in horror. There were bald spots along my reflection’s scalp.

The dreams came next. The nightmares that woke me up in a cold sweat at night. It seems silly when I think about it. Of all the important things that were happening in my life, the terrors that frightened me at night were about being bald, as if that was the worst thing that could happen.

Me on the first day of my senior year of high school

But my hair was the last thing that defined my femininity. My body had shrunk to the size of a 12-year-old boy. My skin had paled to the point that the kids at school dubbed me the “walking dead.” I no longer wore cute clothes – I was too cold all the time. Instead, I huddled in sweats that engulfed my small frame. Besides the vain attempt I made in the mornings with a hint of mascara and a swipe of lipstick, my hair was all I had. And I loved my curls. The wildness and spontaneity of them reminded me of a younger, freer me.

It was years before I finally made the cut. I dealt with my hair in a bob for a long while, resisting the urge to pull it back to reveal where my hair had thinned or completely disappeared. But the need to finally do something drastic became too strong.

So, where the obsession with hair started – in my mother’s salon chair – was also where it came to a halt. The last of my locks fell to the floor. I stared at out at myself in her mirror with a smile. I was finally free.

I stare at my reflection in the window, and my lips curve into another small smile. Sure, there are days where the doubts creep in, when I lament over my appearance. But the power to do anything about it has been taken away, and that has given me more peace in my life than when I vainly attempted to make my hair look more presentable. I am always fully me, wherever I go. I show off my bare neck with pride. This is the hair of a girl who fought hard, and is still fighting. This is the hair of a girl who is not going to give up.

So, yes, I still identify with my hair, as we all do. But it no longer represents the me that I am trying to prove to the world that I am. My hair no longer reflects the teenager I was, fighting to be seen, to be heard, to be accepted and loved by her peers. My hair no longer cares what other people think. My hair represents the strength, the perseverance, and the fight I have lived.

My hair reflects the woman I have become, and the woman I hope to one day be.

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Health, Lifestyle, My Life

It’s about to get awkward: Let’s talk about pain

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Me at Loch Raven Reservoir

Can I be real with you all for a minute? It’s been a tough week.

I recently started listening to a podcast called Deeply Human that I highly recommend. It’s about why we do the things that we do, like get angry when we stand in lines or why it seems to get harder to find the perfect match the more we date, even though it seems like it should be the other way around. This past week, I listened to an episode on pain that hit deep. Pain is something I am no stranger to. I have dealt with chronic illness since I was 10 years old – there has not been a day in the last decade of my life that I have not experienced pain.

This may come as a surprise to some people. I am very active, & I normally consider myself to be a rather optimistic person as well. And, just to be clear, this illness has not made me feel any less grateful in my life. In fact, I think it’s helped me to realize just how blessed I am. I love my life. But, as much as I don’t want my illness to define my life, it is a part of it, just as much as my job, my relationship, or my cultural background. So, why am I comfortable talking about those things, but not about the pain I experience?

This podcast had a really good answer. Pain is something we all struggle to talk about first & foremost because it’s a private feeling. I can’t explain in words what it feels like to experience chronic pain. You can only kind of understand if you have chronic pain as well, but then, we still don’t quite have an understanding because everyone’s experience of pain is different. We all have different levels of tolerance. For example, if I burn my hand on a stove, & you burn your hand on the same stove, we could feel completely different levels of pain. So, even though we both are experiencing the same burn, we don’t truly have an understanding of what the other person is experiencing.

Secondly, there is a bit of a taboo associated with pain. When we express the pain we are going through, we try to make light of it – we diminish our experience because we don’t want people to feel sorry for us or make things awkward. To the same respect, the people we are telling about our pain feel pressured to keep things light as well. The topic moves on quickly. The trouble with this is that pain, whatever type it may be (mental, physical, acute, chronic) can seem very isolating. 

Pain is interesting because it is simultaneously a universal & very personal experience. We all experience pain, yet we can’t ever truly understand anyone’s pain but our own.

So, let me tell you about my week. It was an awesome week. I spent time with family & friends; I finished all of my work during the week (something that rarely happens), so I had the opportunity to have a lovely, relaxing weekend; I received my second vaccine shot; and my dad, brother & future sister-in-law came to visit me at my new house with a surprise gift: a new grill! It was a fun & exciting week, & yet, I spent quite a few days of it breaking down in tears because I received a disappointing letter. After years of fighting chronic illness, a trial program at Johns Hopkins was finally created to help bring relief to patients like me, but I didn’t get in.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

You know what’s interesting though? My pain level hasn’t changed in the last week. I feel the same as I always do. Despite the disappointment, the most painful thing about receiving this letter is that I felt like I couldn’t talk about it. I succumbed to the social pressures that said talking about pain was taboo & thought that expressing my feelings about this experience would bring other people down, so I tried not to talk about it at all. I shared about my job, had a date night with my fiancé, & posted pictures on Instagram about what was happening during my day, never even mentioning the biggest thing that had happened in my life because it would make things “awkward.”

The most painful thing about this past week is that I felt alone. While gathering documents to re-apply to the program & shuffling through lab report after lab report, I felt like I was the only one who could possibly understand what I was going through. It made my pain feel isolating.

But, I’m not alone. Whether you have experienced something like this or not, you have experienced pain. We all have. And, I think it might be time to start talking about it.

When I finally broke down this past week & shared my feelings, I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. For days, despite all of the good happening around me, it felt like this was all I could think about. That letter had me shackled in silent suffering. Now, despite the fact that I am still experiencing pain & I still haven’t been accepted into the program, I feel free.

No matter what pain you are experiencing in your life, I want you to know that you’re not alone, & I encourage you, as awkward as it may be, to talk to someone about it. And if someone comes to you expressing a pain they have been experiencing, I encourage you not to change the topic because it’s “uncomfortable.” Lean into the discomfort. Get to know someone at that deep & personal level. And if you can, try practicing vulnerability & sharing some of your pain as well. I truly believe that if we start doing this, despite the different experiences of pain that we have, we will all realize once again the universal aspect of pain, & therefore, we will feel less alone & more connected than ever before. And that’s important, because connection – true human love & empathy – can be healing. Human connection has been proven to strengthen our immune systems, reduce stress, & help patients heal from trauma. Pain, in & of itself, can be traumatic. It wreaks havoc on our immune systems, & it can be the source of or a symptom of stress.

I know it’s not a magic pill. It won’t heal any pain you are experiencing, whether it be mental or physical. But speaking up & connecting with others will bring you comfort & support during your journey, & for a lot of us, I think that’s all we really want from our community.

Speaking up isn’t easy. This blog post is a start. If you need someone to talk to, please reach out to me. I would love to listen to your story.

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Evolve, Health, My Life

My yoga journey: The powerful lessons I learned on my mat

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Me in Lotus Pose – Photo by Joseph Mauler

Note: This post does contain affiliate links. If you buy a product after clicking a link, I may earn a commission off of that purchase.

“Yoga is not about touching your toes. It is what you learn on the way down.”

–Jigar Gor

Yoga, for me, has always been a place of learning. On the mat, I learn more about myself than I discover in most other places in my life. I learn of my strength, my will, and my perseverance. I learn about my abilities, my draw to flexibility (both in my life & on the mat), & my limitations. Most importantly, I learn more about who I am, & I learn to love that person more.

Yoga was not always a part of my life. I was not a flexible child. I could not touch my toes if I wanted to. And for a long time, as ironic as it may seem given my current profession as a holistic health practitioner and personal trainer, exercise was not something I normally engaged in nor enjoyed. 

However, when I was 13 years old, I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. This diagnosis came after months of widespread pain in my body to the point that it was difficult to get out of bed in the mornings. I was told then that yoga could help me, both in managing my physical pain & in managing my stress, which would, in turn, decrease the amount of pain I experienced.

At first, I was skeptical. Not only was I uninterested in yoga, but I had no confidence that I could do it. As many of my first-time students think, I thought I had to be flexible to do yoga. It never occurred to me that I had it the wrong way – I didn’t need to be flexible to do yoga; yoga would help me to become flexible. 

Me doing yoga on the beach in South Carolina – Photo by Kristina Stout

And it helped me with that in more ways than one. When I finally rolled out the mat & slipped back into Downward Dog, I found that yoga was not just for the body; it is for the mind as well.

The yogic lifestyle began to drip into other parts of my life. As someone who was always easily stressed & angered, someone who lived by a rigid & unyielding schedule fueled by anxiety, yoga taught me patience & flexibility. When challenges came my way, I used the strength yoga had taught me as I held Plank Pose for minutes on end. When negative situations threatened my joy, I learned to flip them around & look at them differently, just as I viewed the world from Plow Pose with my feet sitting behind my head & my shoulders supporting my body instead. I learned to meditate on worries when needed, & to let meditation sweep the worries away when they no longer needed to concern my mind. And at the end of my practice, as I laid back during Savasana, I learned that it isn’t necessarily the work, but actually the rest & relaxation that can be the most important part of my life. 

Yoga carried me through some of the most difficult moments in my life. It became a regular part of my daily routine. And I always felt better, mentally, physically & spiritually, when I stepped off my mat versus when I had stepped on. 

As I got older, I discovered I wanted to share this joy with others, & so I was professionally trained in the art & began teaching my own classes. There is nothing more fulfilling to me than watching a student come into my class, their body held tight with stress, their mind clearly clouded with overwhelming thoughts, & then to watch them leave with a serene expression, their body loose & mind at ease. Through teaching yoga, I learned another important lesson – my life is meant for so much more than my own experiences. I was given a life to give to others. 

Me teaching yoga at Stevenson University – Photo by Dannielle Decastro

Yoga is still teaching me every day. I have a stubborn mind, & I often have to be taught the same lessons again, but Yoga is patient with me, & it continues to teach me to have patience with myself. Yoga has helped me to love the body I have been given, to explore the depths of my mind & spirituality, to believe in my own abilities, & to have grace for myself when I fall. Even though I am a yoga teacher, I still often feel like I am the student in my practice, & this, too, has taught me an important lesson: humility, & in turn, compassion & empathy for others. 

Yoga is a journey, filled with ups & downs, back-bending difficulties & relaxing tests of patience & flexibility. But, if you are willing to embark upon it, I promise you will discover so much more than you ever knew about the most important subject you have to learn about in this life: Your self. 

Namaste.

P.S. I am currently competing to be the Yoga Warrior of 2021! Voting opens March 9. I would be so very appreciative if you would consider voting for me. You can place your vote here.

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Lifestyle, My Life

My other birthday: The day I declared my faith in a God who loves me

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Me & my high school Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA) coach, Rick Sneade, after he baptized me

My birthday, the day I was born, is February 6. But my other birthday, the day I publicly declared my faith in God & was baptized, is February 16.

On the day I was baptized at United Church, I was given the opportunity to share my story. For the anniversary of that day, I originally thought I would rewrite my story, but instead, I think I am going to present it as is. I think the original words tell the story well enough. So, without further ado, here is my baptismal speech that I read a year ago, the reason I trust & believe in a God who loves me & you. Here is my testimony.

I have been struggling with the idea of baptism for a few months now. When the idea was presented to me to get baptized, my initial response was that I already have been. I was baptized as a baby, and this has always been enough for me. And, yet, here I am. 

I grew up in a Christian home. I went to church regularly. As a child, it was never a question for me of whether or not to believe in Christ; that was a given. When I started middle school, I joined my church’s youth group, and by the time I was in high school, I was a junior leader in that group. I served regularly in my community. I shared my faith openly. 

At youth group, the leaders always talked about how our faith would be tested by the world. The leaders said people would mock us for our faith, that people at school wouldn’t want to be friends with us just because we were Christian. I already knew about this. I prayed openly at the lunch table at school, so you can probably guess that I was not one of the most popular kids. But I wasn’t really bothered by this. I had a group of friends that I cared about, and that was enough for me. And I felt like I had already mastered this challenge of having my faith tested. My best friend was an atheist, and we had a great relationship. My faith had never wavered in all of our theological discussions.

But in high school, it became clear that this was not actually the challenge that was going to test me. In my junior year, I became very sick. I had to leave school to deal with my health, which probably sounded to everyone else like the perfect excuse not to go to school. But anyone who knows me would know how awful this was. I was the odd child who, when brought home with a fever from elementary school, would sob and beg my mother to take me back, promising that, despite what the school nurse said, I wasn’t really sick. So, for me to actually willingly leave school at the time that I should have been applying to college and taking my SATs is a measure of just how challenging my daily life had become because of my health. 

Me learning to drive my Junior year of high school

The doctors had no answers. They slapped eleven different diagnoses on my head, each one a different chronic condition. None of them had cures. All of them I would have for life. I lost fifteen pounds off of my already small frame in less than a month. Even on warm days, I was huddled in a sweatshirt, my fingernails blue from the lack of blood circulation. Every bite of food I put into my mouth made me sick. My head pounded so terribly that it hurt to laugh. Every inch of my body ached. My skin was so tender I felt as if it was bruised. 

As much as physical health was struggling, my mental health was failing, too. I have always been a perfectionist, and that characteristic went into overdrive when this happened. My life resembled anything but perfect, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. And this shook my faith. 

I went into autopilot. To everyone on the outside, I’m sure it looked like I was taking all these health problems stoically. I have pictures of me in a hospital bed, reading a textbook as the doctors begged me to give my schoolwork a rest, but “no, because, I’m sorry, but the AP test is in six months and I have to be prepared.” I continued to not only go to church, but lead in the church. I continued to share my faith, or, at least, what used to be my faith. The words came easily because I had been saying them for years. But they didn’t touch my heart the same way anymore.

I was angry at God. I was confused as to why he would let this happen to me. I had always been devoted to Him, had always served Him in any way that I could, and yet here I was, sick and helpless and seemingly alone. I knew He had the power to heal, and yet, He had neglected to heal me. He had ignored my prayers, and I was so terribly hurt by this I didn’t even know how to talk to Him anymore.

Me at a Campus Crusade for Christ retreat my Junior year of college

But on February 17, 2017, everything changed. I had continued to listen to Christian music during the years that I had been sick, hoping for some inspiration, and I had fallen in love with the band MercyMe. I listened to their music regularly. And on this day in February, they released a song that made me remember who I am, and, more importantly, whose I am. 

The song is called Even If. When I first heard it, I liked that it incorporated the old hymn “It Is Well with My Soul” into its melody, because that was always my favorite hymn. The second time I heard it, I actually started to listen to the lyrics. The third time I heard it, I was driving, and I had to pull over because of how hard I was sobbing. 

The song starts with the story of someone who always encourages others, who shares the message of God with everyone else, but he just can’t do it anymore. It’s easy to do it when everything in his life is going well, but what is he supposed to do when he is tested at this level? The song laments that people say it only takes a little faith to move a mountain, which is good, because a little faith is all he has. 

But then he says, “God, when You choose to leave mountains unmovable, give me the strength to be able to sing, it is well with my soul.”

Everything about my faith up until this point in my life had been public. I publicly shared my faith many times. I was a leader in the church. Every time I had given my life to Christ, it was in a public place. But I never truly understood what it meant to give my life to Christ until this moment, when giving my life to Christ was the only option I had to bring any peace into my life. I had never understood that giving your life to Christ meant trusting him with everything, even if my life was spiraling out of control. Even if it seemed like He wasn’t listening, even though He was, and He always had been. And it was there, in the privacy of my car, with the volume on the radio turned up to the max, that I truly gave my life to Christ. 

What did this change for my physical health? Absolutely nothing. There was no miraculous healing. The skies did not open and angels did not descend onto my Hyundai and take away all of my problems. But inside of me, everything was different. He brought a peace into my life that I had been so desperately searching for, and He has reminded the perfectionist part of me that, even in this broken body, in His eyes, I am perfect and I am loved, and that is all that matters. 

Since then, I have trusted God to show me what His plan is for me, and so far, it has been so much grander than anything I could have imagined. He has used my struggles to help others who have faced similar challenges. He has inspired me to help others who are currently fighting health battles. Last summer, he gave me the means and the necessities needed to run with a team across the country to raise money for young adults fighting cancer. I have begun to see the beauty He has created in me by not healing me. And I am so grateful, because what I used to see as the worst part of my life has actually become the biggest blessing I could have ever been given. I am stronger and more devoted to God now than I ever have been. 

So, today, I am here to be baptized because I want to publicly declare that there is a God who loves all of us, who has a perfect plan for each one of us that is too grand for us to ever comprehend. God has a plan that will bring us the greatest sense of peace and love if we just choose to trust Him. 

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Lifestyle, My Life

I called a meeting with my body…

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I called a meeting with my body.

“Everybody out,” I yelled.

My nails slipped off my fingertips as blood dripped to the ground. My hair cascaded down my back to the floor. My eyelashes drooped and then fell. My lips parted, and my teeth toppled out. And then followed all the parts of me hiding inside: My pounding heart and tired lungs, my inept stomach and intestines, my small liver and kidney, and a number of other forgotten, unidentified parts of me plummeted to the ground.

“We need to discuss something important,” I told them. “I am not pleased at how my body is running. We are not working together as a team. We are not doing the best we can. Every day we are failing to meet the standards that have been set.”

“Whose standards,” a tooth piped up.

“It doesn’t matter whose standards,” I spat back.

“Why isn’t the brain here,” the stomach asked. I paused for a moment, surprised. Until now, I had not realized that the brain had neglected to join us.

“Well, I guess because the brain is the one who convinced me to call the meeting,” I said. “The brain is the one who told me that something is wrong.”

“But the brain is part of the problem,” said the heart. “Every day we all work so hard. We labor day and night to make this body function. It’s difficult, but we strive to do our very best. But even after all of that, the brain looks down its nose at us and says that it isn’t good enough – that we are worthless, incompetent and insignificant. The brain tells us that we will never measure up to the other bodies, even though we work just as much, if not more, most days.”

I looked down at my body in shock. There they were lined up, my capable teeth, my delicate but beautiful hair, my strong heart and my powerful lungs; there they all were, hard-working members of my body that had faced so many challenges without ever balking or giving up.

But I could see they were tired. The brain had been working them nonstop. It never let them rest. It always pushed them a little further; it always made them face challenges that were far beyond what most bodies were capable of. And even when the body succeeded, the brain told them that they had not done enough, been enough, were enough. It made the body feel worthless and incapable. It made the body feel as though it could never measure up, even though it was still working, still facing innumerable challenges and beating the odds every day.

The body was not the problem. The problem was me.

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Evolve, Health

What is a ZYTO scan?

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Holistic wellness and medicine is gaining prominence in the medical and health community, and supplements are one of the main products at its core. However, with little regulation on these products, especially in the United States, and with so many supplements to choose from, it can be difficult to know what you need and what is actually going to work.

This is where ZYTO scans come into the equation.

ZYTO is an international company focused on producing software designed to give insight and guidance for health and wellness decisions. Founded in 2004 by Dr. Vaughn Cook, ZYTO is one of the leaders of biocommunicaton technology in the world.

My story

I have to admit, I was greatly skeptical of the ZYTO software the first time I came in contact with it. I had been struggling with chronic health issues for eight years, and it had gotten to the point that my digressing health consumed much of my energy and time. After multiple doctors had failed to successfully treat my diagnoses, or even realize what was wrong, I tried the ZYTO scan as a last ditch effort to improve my health.

After spending much of my life being poked and prodded with needles and more invasive procedures, the idea of having my health problems understood simply by placing my hand on a cradle seemed much too simplistic. When the scan was finished, I was given a long list of supplements recommended to bring my body to a more balanced state. Because neither the scan nor the supplements were covered by insurance, I disappointedly handed over hundreds of dollars that day with little hope that anything in my life would change.

However, after years of struggling to find help and a cure for my illness, it was only a mere two weeks after taking the supplements that I began to feel a difference. My irritable bowel syndrome (IBS) and leaky gut symptoms improved, my headaches and body pain began to fade, and the heaviness I had felt for years started to lift away. I had more energy, a larger appetite, and a new zest for life. My mood improved, as did my capacity to mentally handle tasks that before had been challenging. As time went on, I began to be able to eat foods that before had been restricted from my diet, and I began to chase dreams that I had never thought  possible, such as running across the country last summer.

How does a ZYTO scan work?

So, how does the ZYTO scan work? First, it’s important to recognize that the ZYTO scan is not a diagnostic tool. It is not meant to replace doctors or western medicine, but it is meant to serve alongside these other health modalities to create a holistic wellness program. The hope is that the supplements recommended will help support someone who is pursuing a healthy lifestyle.

To recommend supplements, the scan uses a galvanic skin response, which measures fluctuations in electrical conductivity of the skin. You may be familiar with this technology as it is used in lie detector, or polygraph, tests. Galvanic skin responses have also been used to do psychological research, psychotherapy, media and ad testing, usability testing, and neuroscience. By using a galvanic skin response, the ZYTO technology is able to tell if your body has a positive or negative response to different substances, including different foods, supplements, and health services, such as massage or chiropractic care. The ZYTO software analyzes the responses given to determine which of these foods, supplements and health modalities can help bring the body into a balanced, healthy state.

Is the ZYTO scan for me?

The best thing about a ZYTO scan is it can help anyone, no matter where they are in their health journey. Whether you are currently being treated for a medical diagnosis, working on losing weight or building muscle through personal training and/or nutrition coaching, or just trying to live a healthier lifestyle, the ZYTO scan is a tool that will only benefit your health journey. It serves alongside your current medical and health treatments to better help you achieve your goals and have a healthy lifestyle.

Getting a ZYTO scan

If you are interested in getting a ZYTO scan, or just learning more about the technology and what getting a scan looks like, consider using Evolve. I offer ZYTO scans at a competitive, affordable price because I strongly believe everyone should have access to becoming their healthiest self. I work with Nature’s Sunshine, a reputable supplement company that has been offering affordable, high-quality supplements for 50 years. Most importantly, though, I want to work with you. Getting a scan with Evolve means that your health goals and personal lifestyle will always be taken into account, and the supplements I recommend will always be secondary to suggesting dietary and lifestyle changes that will help you achieve the life you want without having to buy anything. My goal is always to help you become the healthiest, happiest version of yourself through the most natural means possible.

To learn more & schedule a FREE 15-minute consultation, click here.

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Travel

Traveling with chronic illness: What’s in my carry-on bag

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Note: This post contains affiliate links. If you purchase a product after clicking the associated link, I will earn a small commission off of that purchase.

One of the most important things to have on a long flight is a smartly packed carry-on bag.

While doing some online searching, I was surprised to see that there was very little information about things to pack in a carry-on bag for people with different needs. As someone who has dealt with chronic illness for over the last decade, I know that symptoms can, and often do, flare up during travel. Luckily, as an experienced traveler, I have some insight on what someone with chronic illness may need on a long flight.

To be clear, most of the specialty items that I packed were for fibromyalgia and irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), but anyone who suffers from any type of gastrointestinal upset or chronic pain could find benefit from these products.

So, here is what I have in my carry-on bag for my upcoming trip to Arizona (a six hour flight with a four hour layover in Denver), including the usual, mundane items everyone has, and a couple of extra special items that I think you may find helpful for your next trip.

1. Book

For a long flight, it’s important to have something to pass the time. I personally enjoy catching up on my reading while flying. Currently, I am reading Brain On Fire: My Month Of Madness by Susannah Cahalan. I haven’t finished it yet, so I can’t give you a formal review, but thus far, it has been truly captivating and difficult to put down. I am very much looking forward to finishing this book during my trip.

2. Magnesium Plus Stick

This balm is a lifesaver. The Magnesium Plus Stick from Jordan Essentials is a lotion bar enhanced with magnesium, peppermint, basil, lavender, and frankincense. It provides fantastic relief for headaches, muscle aches, and other inflammation associated with chronic pain. After rubbing it on, the effects are almost instantaneous. I never go on a trip without it. 

3. Extra supplements/medications

Most of my supplements/medications are packed away in my luggage, but there are a few I like to have on-hand just in case of some pain or stomach upset, or on the off-chance that the airline loses my luggage. I have extra doses of all of my essential pills in my carry-on, as well as a few extras, just in case. 

For general health and wellness, I use an adult multivitamin from Equate. As a nutrition coach, I recommend everyone take a multivitamin daily to make sure they are getting in an adequate micronutrient intake. 

I manage my IBS with the supplement form of Magnesium Citrate from NOW supplements, which helps regulate the typical wave pattern of constipation and diarrhea for this disease. 

Insomnia is a very common side-effect of fibromyalgia. When your body is tense, it’s difficult to relax enough to fall asleep. To help with this, instead of taking prescription sleeping pills, I use a Melatonin supplement from Nature Made, the only supplement company regulated in the United States (for all other supplements, I make sure they are from reputable companies approved by foreign governments, like Canada, that regulate supplements; except for Nature Made, the FDA does not regulate any supplement companies in the U.S.). 

When traveling, it can be difficult to get in enough vegetables, which are incredibly important for general health, gastrointestinal function, and inflammatory balance in the body. Just in case I am not able to eat my veggies, I packed my Amazing Grass Green Superfood Capsules, which offer a full serving of vegetables along with probiotics, digestive enzymes, and spirulina. 

I never know when IBS symptoms are going to flare up, especially when traveling, so I always pack some Gas X Extra-Strength Soft Gels in case I need to calm my finicky intestines. On this note, I also packed TUMS, just in case my stomach has any trouble.

The last “just-in-case” medication I packed is Aleve. I always try to relieve my pain symptoms as naturally as possible, but sometimes, when the body aches won’t go away, an anti-inflammatory pill is a good solution. Aleve is my favorite because it won’t irritate my stomach the way ibuprofen will, and it provides pain relief for 12 hours.

4. Electrolyte powder and an empty, reusable water bottle

When you’re traveling, it can be difficult to drink enough water. No one wants to be constantly running to (or trying to find) a bathroom. To get the most out of the water I am drinking, I bring Propel electrolyte powders. They help give my body the hydration it needs, and they are low-FODMAP, so they aren’t going to upset my IBS. 

You can’t get through TSA with a bottle of water. However, once you are through, you can fill up an environmentally-friendly, reusable water bottle. I like the Contigo brand of water bottles – the tops lock to reduce spills, they hold a lot of water, and they aren’t too expensive.

5. Protein bars

Everyone gets hungry when they are flying high in the sky. I personally like to pack protein bars to help me feel satiated for a long period of time. Simply Protein peanut butter cookies are not only delicious, but they are made with all-natural ingredients (unlike most protein bars, which are packed full of chemicals and/or sugar). 

6. Neck pillow and eye mask

To rest my aching neck, or to catch a couple minutes of sleep, I like the ZOYLEE twist memory foam travel pillow. It can be formed to different shapes, so no matter how you are sitting, you can find a comfortable place to rest your head.

To block out the light, I use the Alaska Bear natural silk sleep mask. It’s comfortable, stays pretty cool, and protects my eyes from any light trying to break through.

7. Laptop

As a blogger, this is an essential on my trip. I absolutely love my MacBook Air. It has lasted longer than any other laptop I have ever owned, and it still works just as good as the day I bought it. It’s also sleek and lightweight, which makes it perfect for traveling.

To keep my laptop safe, I use the Lalumix plastic hard shell with keyboard cover and screen protector. Sunflowers are my favorite flower, so my choice in decoration was obvious. However, Lalumix has plenty of designs to make anyone happy. 

8. Essential oil roller bottle

High stress situations mean flare ups, both for fibromyalgia and IBS. To help curb this problem, and to keep my cool in general, I use the Jordan Essentials “peace” herbal blend roll-on. It’s a blend of grape seed, orange, ylang ylang, patchouli, clary, and frankincense oils. It is quite simply tranquility packaged in a bottle. 

9. Headphones

Music and podcasts are a necessity on a long trip. I also use these in place of earplugs when I am trying to sleep. I love my JLab Audio JBuds Air Sport True wireless bluetooth earbuds. They have the longest battery life of any bluetooth headphones I have ever owned, and they are sweat resistant, which makes them perfect for running once I get to my destination.

10. Hand sanitizer

We are in the middle of a pandemic – enough said.

11. Peppermint tea

Ordering a cup of hot water, either on the plane or at a coffee shop, is a simple way to bring instant bliss when you have tea on hand. STASH peppermint tea is calming and soothing, not just for the mind, but also for the gastrointestinal tract. 

12. Journal

I am a writer. I never go anywhere without my journal. I personally love this Busy Bee design from Lady Jayne Ltd. because I feel like it captures my personality perfectly. It makes me smile every time I look at it. 

That’s it! I hope you have found this list helpful, whether you struggle with chronic illness or not, to help you create a carry-on bag that provides entertainment, peace of mind, and preparedness for any trip. 

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Travel

Colorado road trip: Day 15

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I did not realize how clean and refreshing the air in Colorado was until I woke up this morning in a hot, sweaty car, condensation dripping down the windows in the muggy Kansas morning air. I was covered in bug bites thanks to the mosquito that decided to sleep with me last night. I longed so much to return to the mountains of Colorado, but this was the morning of our  second day driving back to Maryland.

Joseph and I started the day with a 5K run around the lake we slept next to. The humidity we had forgotten was heavy in our lungs. We were dripping in sweat only a mile into the run. Nevertheless, we pushed through, and at the end we rewarded ourselves with an unconventional bath in the lake. Joseph had the smart idea of placing our soap and loofah in one of our plastic food containers; it served as a makeshift bath caddy that floated in the water next to us.

The water actually felt refreshing after our run. I was reluctant to get out, but we had a long day of driving ahead of us. Our hope was to make it to Columbus, Ohio, which was eleven hours away. To do this, we would also be crossing over a time zone line, which meant we were going to lose an hour of daylight. But, we were determined to get as close to Maryland as possible so we had less driving tomorrow. Our main motivation for this was to pick up my engagement ring. Our route home is supposed to take us through the town the store is in, but if we don’t get there by six o’clock tomorrow evening, we won’t have a chance to pick it up for at least another week. 

We began the drive, both tired from the previous long day of traveling. For much of the morning and afternoon, we were quiet. We listened to podcasts and music, and we tried to relax as much as we could while our backs ached from sitting for so long.

Near the end of the afternoon, we decided to listen to a podcast about my enneagram. The enneagram is a personality test that Joseph and I were interested in at the beginning of this trip. We both figured out which enneagram we are (I am a two and Joseph is a three), but after that, Joseph did much more soul-searching and discovering than I did. A week ago, he mentioned a podcast he wanted to listen to with me about my own personality, but I had put it off until today. 

It was illuminating. I feel like I have not understood myself until this moment in my life. Everything about my actions, my motivations, and my thoughts actually makes sense now. The thing that characterizes twos is their desire to give and receive love, which is so strong that it can be achieved in unhealthy ways, such as neglecting self-care and manipulating others. The way to solve this is to make time for taking care of one’s own needs, which then gives the two enough energy to give more love to others without expecting anything in return.

As I have mentioned a few times, I have been struggling with my health for the past year. One of the main reasons for this is because I let it get so much worse than it needed to before finally dealing with it. I thought it was selfish to spend the time and money to take care of myself, as well as to express any needs I had to others. However, because of this, I felt so unfulfilled in the last year because I did not have any energy to engage in the normal service and giving that I am used to doing. I always felt like I was not doing enough for others, which only fueled my disappointment in myself. This, in turn, demotivated me even more to take care of myself.

It has been a vicious cycle, but I am learning now that it is important to love myself in order to love others well. It is the message I have been trying to grasp onto in the last year, but I think now I finally understand it. 

The most important thing that I have to remember is this: While loving relationships are important, God is my source of love and care. He gives me everything I need. He loves me unconditionally. I do not need love from others to fill my cup; He is what sustains me. He delights in me and who I am because He created me. And He wants me to rest when I need to and to take care of myself so that I am able to do the work He has created me for.

I was honestly disappointed about the idea of going home after such an amazing trip, but having this knowledge fills me with such excitement about my future. I think something finally clicked into place, and now I feel like myself again. 

After learning more about my enneagram, Joseph and I talked more deeply about  each of our personalities. I find it interesting how we approach so much of life similarly, yet for such different motivations. It is important to me to serve others, both because I am filled by loving others and because I have an intrinsic belief that this is how I will receive love (which is not necessarily true). Joseph wants to serve others because he believes that is the ultimate way to live, and he is motivated by his desire for personal achievement and to not disappoint others or himself. On the outside, it looks as if we are doing the same thing, but on the inside, we have two very different internal battles taking place.

One of the most important things for any relationship is communication. The fact that we know about each others’ personalities, motivations, and thought processes helps us to have better empathy and compassion for each other. I feel that this trip has helped us both understand one another on such a deeper level, and I am excited to see what impact that will have on our future together.

Joseph and I stopped for dinner at a rest stop. We watched the sunset, feeling content and satisfied. This trip has been an amazing journey for so many reasons. We have learned more about ourselves, each other, and who we are together. 

Based on what I have discovered, I could not be more enthusiastic and hopeful about our future together.

P.S. There will be more to come on the enneagram soon, and a little challenge for you! Check out the blog next week for my journey deeper into self-discovery and, hopefully, actualization.

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Travel

Colorado road trip: Day 13

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One year ago, I spent my Fourth of July running into Salida, Colorado with my teammates. We were part of 4K for Cancer, a fundraiser created by the Ulman Foundation. Last year, two running and two biking teams spent their summer traveling across the country to raise money for young adults impacted by cancer. 

That was one of the most impactful summers of my life. For seven weeks, I challenged myself, physically, mentally and spiritually, more than I ever had before. I met twenty of the most incredible people I have ever known, who have continued to dedicate their lives to helping others. An entire summer was dedicated to a cause much bigger than myself, and I will never regret that experience or the memories I made on that trip.

But that was the summer my chronic health illnesses, which I had spent years trying to improve, became so much worse. My self-confidence was crushed. I felt labeled by my disease. I hated the idea that my health was burdensome on anyone. The last year has been a battle against those still worsening health conditions, which ultimately lead me to being on the new supplements and diet that have made this trip a bit more complicated. 

This morning, I woke up in Salida, Colorado, ready to once again spend the Fourth of July in one of the most beautiful states in America. Last year, I would never have dreamed that I would be returning to Colorado so soon, nor that I would be watching the fireworks from the same place that I did then. And I could have never imagined that the man I was dating then, the man I had probably bored my teammates by talking about so much, would be here with me, and that we would be engaged.

We began our day with a morning hike at Waterdog Lakes. Joseph had chosen the trail because he realized we had not yet done a lake trail in Colorado. When we arrived at the trail head, we met Troy, a Colorado local from Denver who told us to keep hiking to the second lake because it’s better than the first. Armed with that knowledge, we began trekking up the steep incline of the mountain. We passed cascading waterfalls, climbed rocky paths, and wound through lush pine trees before finally arriving at the first, clear, blue lake.

The second lake was more difficult to find. While searching, we met up with two other Colorado locals, Hannah and Olivia, speech pathologists from Colorado Springs. They had met in graduate school in Iowa, and they just happened to both accept jobs and move to the same apartment building in the same week, just before the novel coronavirus shut down the country. Enjoying the extra company, the four of us continued our search for the trail. What we ended up doing instead was climbing up a pile of boulders that led us to where the lake was nestled between the trees and mountain peaks. We said farewell to our new friends at the top and sat for a few minutes to enjoy the view before beginning the long walk down. It had taken us two hours to get to the top of the mountain, and there were thunder clouds once again threatening us in the distance. 

Luckily, we made it to the bottom safely, just as Troy and his family were finishing their hike. We talked with him about the hike, and he recommended another trail just a few miles up the road at Monarch Crest. Joseph excitedly proposed that we wake up early for a sunrise hike tomorrow morning before beginning the drive to Maryland, and I agreed.

We headed to Salida next to spend our last day in Colorado relaxing and enjoying our time together. Just as we parked, the clouds began to sprinkle rain on us, so we hurriedly packed a lunch and headed to the park. We huddled under a tree to eat. In the middle of the park, a crowd was gathered to watch traveling circus performers from Chicago. We watched the dancing performers and trapeze artists from a distance, gasping when we were fooled into thinking a trick went wrong and applauding enthusiastically at the end of each act. 

Main street was our next destination. We walked the shops, pausing to eat a scoop of ice cream and dairy-free gelato from a local parlor and to buy lattes from a small coffee shop. 

The afternoon flew by, and before we knew it, the fireworks were only a few hours away. We made dinner at our car and then walked around the park and neighborhoods for an evening stroll. As the sky grew dark, we returned to our car, where we set up pillows to sit outside and watch the fireworks. We had parked just below the memorable “S” mountain in Salida, where the letter is painted in white near the top peak. For Independence Day, the “S” was lit up with  white lights and a string of red lights formed a heart around the letter. We finally opened the personal-sized wine bottles we had been saving for just this occasion and toasted our final evening in Colorado.

The festivities began just after the world finally grew dark. Mountain bikes strung with lights appeared from the top of the mountain and wound their way down in an ant line formation. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, prompting one young spectator nearby to ask his parents if the bikers were famous. 

The expectation in the crowd mounted as the bikers finished their descent. We all waited excitedly for the first boom and crack that lit up the night sky.

As bright colors filled the sky and gold dust rained down toward the mountain, I couldn’t help but think about the journey that brought me there (and I’m not just referring to the last two weeks). The last year of my life has been a journey that brought me to this moment. It has not been an easy year – between personal health struggles, starting my own business, the coronavirus pandemic, and so much more, this has been a tough year for me and many people. But there is no doubt in my mind that it has been the best year of my life, and a lot of that is owed to the man that was sitting beside me, watching the fireworks. I have grown a lot in the last year, and with his support, I have learned more about myself and who I am with my health problems, not who I am because of them. 

So, there I was, back in Salida, Colorado, sitting beneath the fireworks, exactly where I was a year ago. In that moment, it was as if nothing had changed. But I came back to this place changed. I am now older, stronger, and more confident than the last time I was here.

There was something poetic about ending a chapter of my life with fireworks crackling above my head. Sitting there, my head rested on Joseph’s shoulder in one of the most beautiful places in the world, I could not think of a better place to begin the next part of my story.

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