09/18/2026
Four years ago, I was 88 pounds.
My hair was coming out in my hands, I was going through chemotherapy, and most of my energy was going toward getting through the next day.
This week, I turned 49.
I spent part of my birthday on Zoom with people who came to celebrate the pre-launch of What the Mud Made Me, the memoir I spent years being afraid to write.
Then I went to a concert.
I danced.
I laughed with friends.
And somewhere in the middle of a room full of people singing happy birthday to me, I caught myself looking around and taking it all in.
For most of my life, I knew how to survive.
I knew how to keep moving, carry what needed carrying, show up for everyone else and make it through hard things.
What I’m learning now is different.
I’m learning how to receive.
How to celebrate.
How to let joy take up space without waiting for something to go wrong.
How to build a life I don’t have to escape from.
At 45, I was fighting for my life.
At 49, I want to be fully inside it.
That might be the greatest birthday gift I could have given myself.
What are you finally giving yourself permission to live?