What’s a chapter of your life you’d title “The Hard Years” — and what got you through it?
If I had to give one chapter of my life a title, “The Hard Years” it’s definitely when I was leaving las Vegas in 2019.
Not because it was the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, but because it changed me in ways I didn’t understand until years later.
When I was 21, I got kicked out of my parents’ house.
At the time, it felt like my entire world had been flipped upside down. Before all of that happened, my mom and I talked every single day. She was one of the first people I’d call if something happened, whether it was good or bad. Then suddenly… nothing.
The silence was honestly the hardest part.
People assume getting kicked out is mostly about finding somewhere to live or figuring out money, and those things are incredibly difficult. But for me, losing that daily relationship with my parents hurt more than anything else.
Looking back now, I don’t deny that I was wrong. I understand why my parents made the decision they did. At 21, I couldn’t see it. I was hurt, angry, and convinced they didn’t understand me.
Now, years later, I can admit that if I were in my parents’ position, I probably would have made the same choice.
That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
Two things can be true at the same time.
So what got me through it?
Honestly, I distracted myself with life.
I worked. I spent time with friends. I focused on whatever was right in front of me because thinking about what I’d lost was too painful. I don’t know if distraction is the healthiest coping mechanism, but at the time it was the only one I had.
Little by little, things started to heal.
When I turned 22, my mom and I slowly found our way back to each other. We started talking again, and over time our relationship became strong again.
My relationship with my stepdad took a little longer. We didn’t really get back to where we used to be until I was almost 24. Healing isn’t always quick, and every relationship moves at its own pace.
Now, I don’t take either of those relationships for granted.
As I’m getting ready to become a mom myself, I think about those years differently than I used to. Parenting isn’t just about loving your child. Sometimes loving them means making decisions they’ll hate you for in the moment because you believe it’s what’s best for them.
I hope I never have to make that kind of decision.
But if I ever do, I understand it in a way that 21-year-old me never could.
Those years were painful, lonely, and full of growing up faster than I wanted to. I wouldn’t want to relive them, but I also wouldn’t erase them.
They taught me accountability.
They taught me that relationships can survive even after they’re broken.
Most importantly, they taught me that forgiveness doesn’t erase the past—it allows you to build a future together anyway.
“The Hard Years” eventually came to an end.
And now, as I prepare to start a brand-new chapter with my own little family, I’m grateful that mine found their way back to each other.
