The Hardest Choice

The author reflects on losing their home and possessions six years ago, prompting a need for profound change. Seeking support from church members, they began rebuilding their life, which required breaking free from toxic relationships and habits. This pivotal decision, though challenging, marked the beginning of their journey toward self-trust and renewal.

I will let you in on something: about six years ago, I lost the home I’d lived in for about two years. I lost all of my antique furniture, my children’s belongings, and all hope of ever getting back to normal. What made it significantly worse was that this wasn’t the first time I’d found myself in a similar situation. My choices had led me down a path of destruction, and I desperately needed a change.

I reached out to some church members and told my pastor what I was going through. Luckily, I was able to crash in a house as long as I helped with the renovations, which I happily did. But the truly difficult part was separating myself from the toxic patterns and self-serving people I tended to attract.

The real hardest choice wasn’t the moving or the rebuilding. It was deciding, finally, that I wasn’t going back to the same people, the same habits, or the same version of myself that wrecked my life in the first place. It meant being uncomfortable, being alone sometimes, and facing the mess I made without numbing it.

That decision to walk away from what meant me harm is the reason I’m still standing. It didn’t fix everything overnight, but it became the first real step toward becoming someone I could trust again. Losing everything wasn’t the end of my story — it was the moment my story finally changed direction.

Looking Back Without Staying There

Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

This question deserves a layered answer. Let’s start by exploring the weight of regret, and the longing to return to a time when we think things might have gone differently. I’ve often asked myself if I’d ever want to relive a certain year or moment—but truthfully, I wouldn’t. Every experience, even the painful ones, has shaped who I am and guided the choices that led me here.

From as far back as I can remember, my life wasn’t filled with the kind of happy or cherished memories that people often hold onto. And while I won’t go into the reasons why, I’ve come to accept that my past unfolded exactly as it needed to. Each moment, no matter how difficult, built the person standing here today. Change even one of them, and I wouldn’t be me.

So rather than clinging to old wounds or replaying what could have been, I choose to be grateful for my resilience—for the fact that I’ve made it this far. Don’t dwell on what you wish you could change; instead, honor the path that brought you here. Live in the now, and let your past become the foundation for a future that feels truly worth living.

In choosing not to dwell on what was, I’ve learned to gain from what is—and that’s how forward thinking begins.

What is your favorite form of physical exercise?

My favorite form of physical exercise isn’t tied to a gym membership — it’s built into my everyday routine. Carrying groceries up the stairs, walking everywhere because I don’t have a car, and turning chores into movements with music.

Honestly, there are days I’m too exhausted to move, but I’ve learned that when I do — even just stretching before bed and again when I wake — it keeps me mobile enough to carry that basket of laundry from the basement to the attic without breaking down.

On days I can’t walk to the store or around the block, I hop on my stationary bike, which even helps improve my dance moves in the kitchen as I cook. Basically, as long as my body is in motion, my energy levels stay up.

Two years ago, I was diagnosed with Type II diabetes — but thanks to major lifestyle changes, I’ve been off insulin for about ten months now. Life’s workout plan costs nothing and builds strength where it counts.