Through My Own Lens: A Journey from Survival to Soul Revival

When the Whirlwind Took Hold

There was a time not too long ago when I felt like I was walking a winding path that never seemed to straighten out—one of those roads that twists through fog and shadow, where every turn feels uncertain and every step feels heavy.

They say motherhood is beautiful — and it is — but what they don’t always tell you is that beauty often hides behind exhaustion, expectation, and invisible weight. Statistics show that millions of mothers silently battle depression and anxiety, their hearts carrying emotions too tangled to name. I was one of those mothers — smiling on the outside, but quietly trying to find my footing on a path I didn’t recognize.

From 2021–2023: My Full-Blown Mental Health Crisis

From 2021 through 2023, my mental health journey turned into something that felt cinematic —a movie I never meant to star in. Some scenes were slow and silent — me, staring into nothing, wondering how to keep going. Other moments were chaotic — the soundtrack loud with overthinking, guilt, and endless “what ifs.”

The road twisted in ways I couldn’t predict. I’d think I was rounding the last bend toward peace, only to hit another climb that took my breath away.

But here’s what I’ve learned: healing isn’t a straight road. It’s a winding path — uneven, unpredictable, but full of lessons at every curve. And sometimes, the breakdown is what finally leads you to breakthrough.

Rediscovering My Voice Through Blogging

When I reached a crossroads — tired of the noise in my head, ready to stop pretending everything was fine —I turned back to something familiar: writing.

Blogging became my map when I had no sense of direction. Each post helped me understand where I’d been and where I was headed next. My words became tiny trail markers — proof that I was still moving forward, even when it felt like I wasn’t.

Through writing, I began to see that healing wasn’t about erasing my pain. It was about giving it purpose — turning my story into something that could light the way for others still lost in their own maze.

Seeing Life Through Another Lens

Then came photography — a new way to travel that same winding path. At first, I was just snapping pictures to distract my mind, but soon I realized it was helping me see the world differently.

The lens became a kind of compass — pointing me back toward gratitude. I began to notice how sunlight filters through trees, how laughter looks frozen in midair, how even the imperfect frames hold beauty.

Every click of the camera felt like grounding. Every image reminded me that even if the path was uneven, I was still on it. Still walking. Still growing.

The Power (and Peace) of Boundaries

Somewhere along the journey, I learned one of the hardest, most necessary lessons: boundaries.

Before, I tried to please everyone along the path—picking up their burdens, ignoring my own pace. But all that did was slow me down.

Now, I understand that boundaries are like guardrails —they don’t stop the journey; they keep you from falling off the edge. They help you stay on your course with balance and intention.

Saying “no” has become an act of self-respect. Saying “yes” is now sacred — reserved for what truly aligns with my peace. And peace, I’ve realized, is the most valuable travel companion of all.

Becoming the Woman Who Dances in the Rain

My story didn’t end at the breaking point —it began there. The winding road, the detours, the movie moments of heartbreak —they all led me back to myself.

Healing didn’t come with a grand finale. It came in quiet moments: a cup of coffee sipped in peace, a sunset caught in perfect light, a deep breath that didn’t feel heavy anymore.

Now, I write, I capture, I create — not because I’ve arrived, but because I’ve learned to find joy along the way. The path is still winding, and that’s okay. I’ve stopped searching for a straight line and started trusting the curves.

Because healing isn’t about getting back to who you were —it’s about becoming who you were meant to be.

And through my lens — both the camera’s and my own —I’ve learned that even the rough roads can lead to something beautiful. Sometimes, the view is most breathtaking right after the storm.