February 19, 2026

This past week? A blur of appointments and overthinking.

And tell me why one tiny new symptom can send my brain into a full documentary series called “Everything That Could Possibly Be Wrong.”

I’m calm for about twelve minutes. Then I’m googling. Then I’m bargaining with God. Then I’m pretending I’m fine while internally drafting my will. Dramatic? Maybe. Also… relatable.

I keep circling this word: independence.

I used to be proud of that. I can handle it. I don’t need help. I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry about me.

Now independence looks like texting, “Hey, can you grab that for me?”

It looks like leaving before I’m wrecked.

It looks like not writing a whole essay explaining why I can’t come.

It looks like letting someone else carry the heavy thing — literally and emotionally.

And I won’t lie, I don’t love it.

It hits my pride. It makes me feel exposed. Sometimes it makes me feel smaller than I used to be. Like… who am I if I’m not the strong one? If I’m not the reliable one? If I’m not the one holding it all together?

Still.

I’m starting to wonder if I misunderstood strength in the first place.

Maybe gripping everything as tight as possible wasn’t strength.

Maybe it was fear. Fear of being seen as needy. Fear of being a burden. Fear of losing control.

And I’m tired of living clenched.

Maybe independence now looks like knowing when to lean.

Maybe it looks like honesty instead of performance.

Maybe it looks like letting the people who love you actually show up.

If this season is forcing you to redefine what strong means, you’re not alone. I’m right there with you. Learning it slowly.

With all love,