The Day Everything Changed Wasn’t the End — It Was the Invitation
The fire, the betrayal, the hurricane — none of it was punishment.
This is Part One of a three-part series, Rebuilding From the Soul. Over the next few days, I’ll walk you through the lies stability told us — and what life looks like when soul comes first.
He was 50. She was 70. At the time, it felt outrageous — mostly because I was the wife he cheated on. I found them in bed together.
She was a former Ford model — still gorgeous, with money. He was a handsome concert pianist whose career had gone off-key. There was nothing I could do to redeem the situation, so I left. I packed my two dogs, two pairs of underwear, and the cash I’d hidden around the house. I drove to my daughter’s place on the outskirts of D.C. and never looked back.
Hidden truth: That day I discovered I am a woman who will choose dignity over drama, speed over stagnation, and truth over appearances.
What no longer served: Managing someone else’s ego, performing “good wife,” pretending everything was fine.
Reframe: Not punishment — invitation. Come claim your self-respect and start again.
This is Part One of Rebuilding From the Soul. Parts Two and Three — The Lies Stability Told Us and What Life Looks Like When Soul Comes First — will be for paid subscribers only. If this spoke to you, don’t stop here.
Subscribe now and keep walking the breadcrumb trail with me.
Three years later, after a few moves, I leased a too-big McMansion with a big-hearted plan: rent rooms to young adults in recovery. That was my jam — loving people exactly where they were.
One of them stubbed a cigarette into a dried floral pot. Hours later, the house was on fire. My neighbors broke down my door to pull me out. I escaped with my phone, glasses, slippers, and a five-pound dog. Seven fire trucks. I never went back.
Hidden truth: I learned I can survive the unthinkable, receive help, and rebuild without my things defining me.
What no longer served: Heroing everyone at the expense of myself, equating square footage with worth.
Reframe: Not punishment — invitation. Release the weight. Take only what’s alive.
Two years later I moved home to care for my father and my stepmother with advancing dementia. I trained as a caregiver and stayed through her final six months. Her daughters thanked me with cash and a car. My own family — silence.
Hidden truth: I discovered my capacity for tenderness, endurance, and sacred goodbyes. I learned that love can be complete without applause.
What no longer served: Earning worth through caretaking, waiting for the “thank you” that never comes.
Reframe: Not punishment — invitation. Give from fullness, not for approval.
I stayed in my father’s house six more years, until Hurricane Laura hit Lake Charles. Another ending. After rebuilding, I moved again — closer to my eldest daughter. Later, she moved to another city. For the first time, I chose to stay. I chose me
.
Now I live in my high-rise loft. Alone — but not lost.
Hidden truth: Freedom fits me. Minimal fits me. Creation fits me. I wake excited.
What no longer serves: Stability as performance — the mortgage-as-identity, the “good woman” script.
Reframe: Not punishment — invitation. Anchor in your soul, not in an address.
Here’s what all these “endings” taught me:
I am more capable than the worst day of my life.
I love honesty, beauty, service, and making something from ashes.
I don’t need to carry roles, houses, or other people’s expectations to be whole.
Stability isn’t a mortgage; it’s self-trust.
Every rupture was a doorway. Every loss, a teacher. Every departure, permission to step toward a truer life.
What if this isn’t punishment? What if this is permission? I will explore this in part two of this series.
Now that I’ve laid out the turning points — the betrayals, the fires, the storms, the losses — tomorrow I’m going to shine the light on an even deeper question:
The Lies Stability Told Us.
Because maybe what we were taught to worship as “security” was never serving our souls in the first place.
✨ Don’t miss Part Two tomorrow — it might just change how you see everything you’ve been chasing.