Growth Beyond Obstacles

For so long, I defined myself by what I wasn’t — not successful enough, not loved enough, not strong enough, not beautiful enough. My life often felt like an endless cycle of catching up, proving myself, and covering up scars, both visible and invisible. But over the past few years, through healing, learning, and growing, I’ve realized something important: I can choose a different narrative.

This story is not just about me; it’s about what happens when we begin to rewrite our lives. It’s about the slow but steady process of shifting from doubt to confidence, from shame to acceptance, and from fear to love. My journey has been full of detours — battling PCOS, enduring surgeries, pursuing education later in life, walking away from jobs that didn’t align, and facing the mirror after losing weight but still learning to love what I see. But each chapter has taught me that my timeline, my body, my path, and my worth are not defined by others.

So today, I want to share the lies I once believed and the truths I am still learning to embrace.

I’m Behind in Life / I’m Moving at My Own Pace

For years, I measured my life against everyone else’s. Friends were getting married, having kids, buying houses, or moving up the career ladder while I was still figuring out my health, finishing school later than expected, or changing jobs. I often felt like I was perpetually behind.

That belief nearly crushed me because it took away the joy of the milestones I was reaching. I’d lose sight of what I had accomplished because I was so focused on what I hadn’t.

But slowly, I began to realize that life isn’t a race. My pace is different because my journey is different. Living with PCOS and endometriosis meant my health path was never going to look like everyone else’s. I had to prioritize surgeries, healing, and lifestyle changes before I could chase certain dreams.

When I finally completed my Bachelor of Arts in Leadership after years of starts, stops, and challenges, it was a deeply personal victory. Almost immediately, I began my MBA program. Some might call that “late” in life, but for me, it was right on time.

Even in my health journey, I’ve had to learn patience. My vertical sleeve gastrectomy (VSG) in December 2024 marked the start of a new chapter. Nine months later, I had lost over 80 pounds and completed my first two 5K races — the Bubble Run in June and the Star-Spangled Squirt Gun Run in July. Crossing those finish lines was more than physical achievement; it was proof that my timeline, no matter how unconventional, was still leading me forward.

I no longer believe I’m behind. I believe I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, moving forward at a pace that honors both my challenges and my resilience.

Nobody Loves Me / I’m Learning to Love Myself First

There was a time when loneliness felt like my default state. I longed for love and validation but often found myself in spaces where I compromised who I was to be accepted. I equated worth with whether or not I was chosen by others, and when relationships failed or friendships faded, it left me feeling unlovable.

The truth is, I didn’t yet know how to love myself. I was constantly pouring out, seeking approval, and trying to earn love, rather than resting in the reality that love begins within.

My turning point came when I started doing the deeper work: therapy sessions that helped me unpack years of wounds, journaling practices that made me face the hard truths, and surrounding myself with people who inspired me to grow. Desire to Inspire became a place where I not only received coaching but also discovered community. I began to see that my value wasn’t tied to what others said about me but to who I was becoming.

When I started treating myself with kindness — fueling my body with better choices, celebrating small victories in fitness, investing in my education, and setting boundaries in relationships — something shifted. Loving myself first meant that when love from others came, it didn’t feel like a lifeline but an addition.

That’s why when my fiancée came into my life, it was different. I wasn’t searching for someone to complete me; I was learning to be whole on my own. His love became a mirror of what I was already beginning to see in myself: that I was worth loving, without conditions. When he proposed, it wasn’t just a commitment to a future together; it was a reminder of how far I had come in learning to accept and love myself.

Now, I don’t measure my worth by who does or doesn’t love me. I measure it by how deeply I’ve learned to love myself.

I Failed / I Learned and I’m Still Growing

Failure used to be one of my greatest fears. I thought it meant the end of the road, a permanent mark on my record of worth. When jobs didn’t work out, when health setbacks forced me to pause, or when relationships crumbled, I labeled myself as a failure.

But hindsight has shown me something powerful: every single “failure” has been a teacher.

Leaving jobs that weren’t aligned with my purpose taught me about resilience and the importance of pursuing work that fills me, not drains me. Facing weight gain and health crises before my surgery taught me discipline, patience, and the reality that healing isn’t linear. Surgeries that set me back physically gave me opportunities to slow down and listen to my body. Even broken relationships taught me boundaries, and self-respect.

One of the most meaningful turning points came earlier this year when I returned to Virginia after four years of being away. That trip was about more than just visiting; it was about healing. I reconnected with old friends, mentors, and pastors. I stood face-to-face with the pain of my past church trauma and realized I was no longer the same person. What once felt like failure now felt like growth, because I had walked through the fire and emerged stronger.

Now, I see failure as feedback. Every stumble becomes a stepping stone. In my MBA program, challenges with assignments or group projects don’t discourage me the way they once would have; they remind me that growth only happens when we stretch ourselves. Running races and sometimes finishing slower than I’d like doesn’t make me a failure; it shows me where I can keep building strength.

I’ve stopped chasing perfection and started embracing progress. And that has made all the difference.

I’m Not Enough / I’m More Than Enough

Perhaps the most painful lie I’ve believed is that I am not enough. That whisper has echoed in my mind for years, fueled by comparison, rejection, and my own insecurities. PCOS and endometriosis made me feel like my body was broken. Weight struggles made me feel invisible or unworthy. Academic and career setbacks made me question if I had what it took to succeed.

The voice that told me I wasn’t enough grew louder in silence, in the moments when I was alone and scrolling through images of others seemingly living perfect lives. I thought if I just achieved more, looked different, or worked harder, then maybe I’d finally measure up.

But slowly, I began to realize that my worth is not something I have to earn. It is already woven into who I am.

When I earned my degree, it was validation, but it didn’t define me. When I entered my MBA program, it became another layer of growth, but not proof of worth. Training for 5Ks, writing my blog, and sharing my story online have been ways of expressing myself, but they don’t determine whether I’m enough.

Now, when doubt creeps in, I remind myself of the truth: I am more than enough just as I am, and I don’t need to prove it to anyone.

 I’m Ugly / I’m Beautiful in My Own Way

Body image has always been one of my hardest battles. Living with hormonal disorders, facing weight gain, and enduring scars from surgeries made me feel like my body was something to hide. I avoided photos, covered up, and compared myself to every filtered image I saw online.

But healing has taught me to see beauty differently. It isn’t about perfection or meeting society’s standards. It’s about resilience, strength, and authenticity.

The first time I wore a bikini after surgery, I was terrified. But instead of judgment, I felt freedom. I took my first selfie in years and saw not flaws but progress. Loose skin and scars no longer meant I was damaged; they were evidence of the battles I had fought and won.

When people told me they saw peace in my eyes or that my body reflected my hard work, it was affirmation that beauty runs deeper than appearance. Running races, showing up in workout gear, and embracing my transformation online showed me that beauty is not a size or a shape. It’s the confidence to show up as yourself.

I am beautiful in my own way because I carry the story of transformation in my body, mind, and spirit. And that beauty cannot be measured by anyone else’s standard.

Living the Shift

Every line of my story has been about letting go of lies and choosing truth.

I am not behind. I am moving at my own pace.

I am not unloved. I am learning to love myself first.

I have not failed. I am learning and growing every day.

I am not lacking. I am more than enough.

I am not ugly. I am beautiful in my own way.

This is the story I choose to tell now. My journey is ongoing, and there are still days when the lies creep back in. But I know now that I have the power to reframe, to rewrite, and to keep moving forward.

If you’re reading this and find yourself in those same lies, I want you to know: your story can be rewritten too. You are not defined by your setbacks, scars, or comparisons. You are defined by your resilience, your growth, and your ability to rise again.