Reclaiming My Power: A Soft Start After a Hard Year

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Hey gorgeous,

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

The last time I posted on Marcevolution was in January, and let me tell you—this year has been one long, winding road. Not all bad, but definitely not easy. Life has thrown some punches (and a few chairs for good measure), but I’m still standing. Wobbly? Sure. But still standing—and now, writing again.

I want to talk a bit about why I’ve been gone, why I’m back, and why I think soft restarts deserve way more love than they get.

Life Got Very Real

Earlier this year, life knocked me flat. I was working these strange, chaotic hours as a tax professional—nights, weekends, whatever the job demanded. It was exhausting, and any free time I had went straight to survival mode. On top of that, I was job hunting, trying to rebuild my life after being homeless, managing chronic pain from old injuries, and juggling a mental health cocktail of depression, anxiety, and trauma symptoms. I couldn’t keep all the balls in the air—so writing, something that used to center and heal me, had to be set down.

When I wasn’t working, I was crashing—hard. I mean lights-out, don’t-talk-to-me kind of crashing. Physically, my body was screaming. Emotionally, I was numb. Spiritually, I felt like I was drifting without an anchor. And as much as I missed writing, I didn’t have the mental or emotional bandwidth to show up in the way I wanted to. I wasn’t okay. Even though I use tools like ChatGPT to tidy up grammar and help shape structure sometimes, I’ve always been committed to telling my story in my voice. This space has never been about SEO-perfect blogs or robotic self-help advice—it’s about being human, messy, raw, and real. I never want to lose that.

I Didn't Recognize Myself Anymore

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Somewhere along the way, I started fading. My body changed. My energy disappeared. My motivation evaporated. And I stopped recognizing the woman in the mirror.

Last year, I was proud of myself—I’d lost over 20 inches. I felt strong and more in control of my health than I had in a long time. But then I got sick. And then I got sick again. COVID swept through the house like a wrecking ball, and I caught it not once, not twice, but multiple times over four straight months. Every time I started to recover, I’d get knocked back down. I couldn’t move much. I stopped working out. I barely ate, and still somehow gained weight. My body felt heavy and unfamiliar. My joints ached. My depression got so dark that there were days I seriously considered checking myself into a hospital.

And if you’ve ever been in inpatient mental health, you know that’s not a cute little “mental health vacation.” It’s restrictive. Overwhelming. Clinical. And while there’s nothing wrong with getting help, the idea of being trapped—of not being able to leave, eat, or sleep when I needed to—terrified me. I didn’t feel like a person anymore. I felt like a burden. And worse, I felt ugly in a way that no amount of pep talks could fix.

Still Not Okay, But I'm Climbing Back

Photo by Mike Haupt

Let me be honest: I’m not magically healed. I’m not writing this from the top of some metaphorical mountain where everything’s fine and inspirational music plays every time I smile. I still have hard days. I still forget to eat. I still cry over shirts that don’t fit and beat myself up for not being more productive.

But I’m showing up anyway. Even if it’s just a little.

My partners have graciously let me move in while I get back on my feet, and while the house is noisy (especially with the kids), it’s stable. I have a roof over my head. I have people who care. And while I miss having my own space and the quiet to create freely, I’m deeply grateful not to be sleeping in my car or couch-surfing anymore.

I’ve started carrying a cane to help me walk more confidently again, and I’m working on rebuilding my stamina with short, gentle walks. It’s not about bouncing back—it’s about moving forward. One slow, wobbly, but intentional step at a time.

Most importantly, I’m trying not to hate my reflection anymore. Trying not to cringe at photos. Trying not to avoid mirrors. Trying to be soft with myself as I relearn how to feel comfortable in my own skin again.

The Guilt of Being the "Broken" Life Coach

I think one of the most painful things during this whole journey has been the deep shame I’ve felt about being a “broken” coach.

I’ve done the work. I’ve taken the courses. I’ve held space for people and helped them shift their lives in powerful ways. But when my own life fell apart, I didn’t feel like I deserved to hold that title anymore. How could I guide others when I felt so lost myself?

I didn’t want to coach from a place of pain and denial. I didn’t want to pretend I had answers when I was barely holding it together. So, I made a hard call—I took those services off my website. Not because I’ve given up on coaching entirely, but because integrity matters to me. You deserve someone who is present, honest, and grounded. And I couldn’t be that person while falling apart.

But here’s what I’ve learned in this season: healing isn’t linear. It’s not about being perfect or finished. Sometimes the most powerful thing we can do for ourselves—and for others—is to hit pause, breathe, and gently begin again when we’re ready.

Why I’m Writing Again (and What I’m Looking Forward To)

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So, why now?

Because I finally have a bit of time. Because job hunting (while stressful) has cleared space in my day that used to be consumed by work. Because I miss writing. I miss the heart of this blog. I miss talking to you.

Marcevolution was always about evolving, not pretending to have it all together. It’s about growth in the face of grief. It’s about holding space for transformation, for truth, for starting again even when it feels awkward or painful or slow.

I’m not here to preach. I’m just here to be. To tell my story, in hopes that it helps you feel a little less alone in yours. Whether you’re restarting a routine, reclaiming your body, finding your voice, or just trying to survive another week—you’re not alone.

This is my soft restart. And maybe, just maybe, it’s yours too.

Your Turn: Let’s Reground Together

If you’ve made it this far, thank you. Truly.

I’d love for you to comment below with one small thing you’re doing this week to restart, re-ground, or reclaim your power. It doesn’t have to be huge—just something that makes you feel even a little bit more you again.

Whether it’s drinking more water, taking a nap, unfollowing toxic people on social media, or just brushing your hair when you didn’t want to—celebrate it.

This isn’t about starting over from scratch. It’s about continuing your story, gently.

We’re in this together.