It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything here. I didn’t plan to step back from writing—it just happened. Somewhere between the storms of this past year and the noise from people who didn’t understand my mission, I let my voice go quiet.
A few comments landed deeper than they should have.
A rolled eye.
A dismissive joke.
And when you’re already carrying a heavy season, small things can echo loudly. Before I knew it, I stopped writing—not because I had nothing to say, but because I wasn’t sure anyone wanted to hear it.
But here’s the truth I’ve come back to:
I don’t write for eye-rollers.
I don’t write for the insecure.
I don’t write for the ones who took from me but never added to my mission.
I write for the parents holding things together.
For the leaders fighting silent battles.
For the business owners trying to rebuild.
For the instructors learning how to lead with integrity.
For the veterans and families searching for purpose and belonging.
For the quiet fighters who need to know that storms can be survived.
Because I’ve been there too.
And here’s what I’ve learned:
Just because the storm ends doesn’t mean you instantly trust the sunshine. Sometimes you have to walk back into your purpose slowly, step by step, even while your confidence is still catching up.
This blog was never meant to be perfect.
It was meant to be honest.
A place to reflect, rebuild, and remind myself—and anyone reading—that transformation often happens in the aftermath.
So here I am, writing again.
Not because everything is tidy or resolved, but because someone out there might be standing in the quiet after their own storm, unsure of their next step.
Take it.
Even if you’re trembling.
Even if you don’t feel ready.
Even if your trust is still mending.
Purpose returns before confidence does. Keep walking.
And so will I.
