The Surprise Trip
My name is Lily, and I’m 41 years old. Not too long ago, I had everything—well, almost. I had a beautiful home, a steady job, and an 18-year marriage that I thought would last forever. But one day, without any warning, my husband left. He didn’t explain, didn’t provide closure—he simply walked out the door, leaving me with an empty house and an even emptier heart.
At first, I was numb. I didn’t know how to pick up the pieces of my life. How do you move on after 18 years? How do you recover from the years of companionship, the promises made, the future planned out together? The weight of it all was crushing.
I spent the next few months in a haze, lost in my grief. I could barely summon the energy to leave the house. It was as if the life had been drained out of me, and I was just going through the motions. I had a few friends who tried to help, but I couldn’t bring myself to open up to them. After all, what did I have left to offer?
One night, after a particularly lonely evening, I decided to join a dating site. At first, it was more out of boredom than anything else. I figured it couldn’t hurt to dip my toes into the world of online dating. Maybe it would give me a distraction, something to take my mind off my broken marriage.
I wasn’t expecting anything serious, but that’s when I met Juan.
Juan was everything I wasn’t expecting. He was kind, funny, and so attentive. His profile picture showed a man with a warm smile, dressed casually but with a relaxed confidence that made me smile. We started chatting, and before I knew it, I found myself looking forward to his messages every day. The more we talked, the more I felt myself opening up. I was amazed by how easy it was to talk to him.
We didn’t start out as anything serious, but something between us started to grow. Juan told me about his life in Mexico, his family, his love for cooking, and his passion for art. I shared everything I could about my life—my childhood, the heartbreak of my divorce, my hopes for the future. In a way, he felt like a breath of fresh air in a life that had felt stagnant for so long.
I never expected things to get serious, but as time went on, Juan began to invite me to visit him in Mexico. He told me how much he would love to show me his world, to introduce me to his family, to let me see the side of him that he couldn’t express in just words. At first, I hesitated. I didn’t know what to expect. Was this all just an elaborate fantasy, a distraction from our lonely lives? Or was it something more?
But with each passing week, I found myself yearning for more. Maybe I could find love again. Maybe, just maybe, this was the fresh start I needed.
So, I made a decision. I was going to take a leap of faith and surprise him. I booked a plane ticket to Mexico, packed my bags, and tried to keep my excitement in check. I didn’t tell him I was coming—this was going to be a surprise.
The days leading up to my trip were a whirlwind of nerves and excitement. I had no idea what would happen when I arrived, but part of me was ready for whatever came next. It felt like this was my chance to escape the shadow of my past and start fresh.
The flight was long, and by the time I landed, I could feel the weight of anticipation pressing down on me. The air was warmer than I expected, and as I stepped off the plane, I felt the pulse of new energy. I was in Mexico.
But the excitement quickly turned to confusion when I learned that Juan lived in a small town far from the airport. The taxi ride was a blur—long, cramped, and filled with anxiety as I tried to shake off my nerves. When we finally arrived at his place, I was both excited and terrified to see him.
The moment I got out of the taxi, I saw him—Juan. But the greeting wasn’t what I expected.
The Unsettling Surprise
I had spent hours on the flight, each minute dragging as my anticipation built, but now that I was finally face-to-face with him, I felt my excitement fade into confusion. I hadn’t anticipated seeing Juan under these circumstances. The look on his face was… unexpected.
“Juan!” I called out, trying to keep my voice upbeat, even though my stomach was twisting in knots. I rushed forward to greet him, hoping for a warm, welcoming embrace—something to confirm that this was all real, that our connection hadn’t just been a figment of my imagination.
But when I saw his face, it wasn’t exactly the joy I had hoped for. There was surprise in his eyes, yes, but there was also something else—a guardedness, an unease. It was as though he wasn’t sure what to make of this sudden arrival.
“Lily! You—you’re here?” He stepped back, holding a hand up as if to stop me. His voice was tight, as though he was struggling to find the right words.
I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. This wasn’t the enthusiastic greeting I had expected. The moment dragged on, and his hesitation was hard to ignore.
“Yeah, surprise!” I laughed nervously, trying to play it off. “I thought I’d pop in and, you know, spend some time with you.”
But his smile never quite reached his eyes. There was something off about him, something I couldn’t quite place.
“Why didn’t you text me before coming?” Juan asked, stepping back and rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you.”
His words were slow, careful—almost like he was searching for an excuse. I had tried to prepare myself for anything, but this was definitely not how I envisioned our reunion.
“Well,” I started, trying to shake off the awkwardness, “I thought it would be fun to surprise you. You seemed so busy with everything. And, uh… I missed you.”
I couldn’t tell if he was still processing what had just happened, or if there was something else behind his confusion. But his response made me feel like something was wrong.
“Yeah… well, that’s great. Come on inside,” he said, ushering me into the small apartment. His tone had shifted slightly, but there was an undertone of discomfort that lingered in the air.
As we walked inside, I noticed how bare and impersonal his place looked. The apartment was clean, but there was no sign of personal warmth or familiarity. No photos, no trinkets, nothing that gave the place any kind of life. It was strange, almost clinical in its emptiness.
I made my way to the couch, unsure of what to say next.
“So, tell me about your day,” I said, trying to ease into the conversation. “How’s everything been going?”
Juan sat down across from me, his fingers twitching slightly as though he was lost in his thoughts. “Everything’s fine,” he said, but there was something in his eyes—a flicker of uncertainty. “Just the usual, you know?”
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The Juan I had known from our messages—the charming, confident man—was nowhere to be found in the man sitting before me. The cold distance between us was palpable, and I felt a sense of unease creeping over me.
I forced myself to push past my growing discomfort. “So, I thought we could maybe go out for dinner tonight, celebrate. What do you think?” I smiled, trying to be upbeat, hoping that would break the tension.
Juan looked up at me, and for a brief moment, his eyes softened, but then the look disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Maybe tomorrow,” he replied. “I’m pretty tired. It’s been a long week.”
I tried to smile, though my heart was sinking. “Of course,” I said softly. “We can take it slow. I just wanted to see you.”
The conversation died out after that. The minutes stretched into uncomfortable silence, and the awkwardness was suffocating. I had traveled all this way to be with him, and here I was, sitting in a strange apartment, wondering if I had made a huge mistake.
As the evening wore on, we watched a movie together, but the distance between us remained. I didn’t want to overthink it. Maybe he was just nervous, or maybe this was how things would be. The pressure of the moment was too much to handle, so I tried to push the doubts away.
Finally, I decided it was time to go to bed. Juan showed me to a guest room, but his demeanor seemed distant, almost as if he was trying to avoid me. He didn’t offer much more than a short “goodnight” before retreating to the other side of the apartment.
As I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but feel like I was on the edge of some big revelation—one I wasn’t prepared for. I tried to shake the feeling that I was being foolish. He had invited me here. He had been so kind in our messages. Surely, this could all be worked out.
But the unease remained, gnawing at me, and sleep wouldn’t come.
The next morning, I woke up to an empty apartment. My phone buzzed beside me, and I picked it up to see a message from Juan.
“I have to take care of some things today. I’ll be back later. Make yourself comfortable.”
I sat up in bed, confusion swirling inside me. I had been waiting for a grand romantic gesture, for something to make the trip worth it. But here I was, alone in a strange city, not sure where to go or what to do.
Juan’s message was vague, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.
The Start of Unraveling
I spent the next few hours wandering around Juan’s apartment, trying to keep myself occupied while I waited for him to return. The strange emptiness of the place weighed heavily on me. I found myself pacing, picking up random objects, and then putting them back down, unable to focus. My mind kept going back to the evening before — the awkward silence, the sense of distance between us that I couldn’t explain.
I could feel a tightening knot in my stomach, a sense of growing unease. I had arrived in Mexico expecting to feel the warmth and excitement of a reunion, but instead, I was met with confusion and a coldness I hadn’t anticipated. I couldn’t help but replay the moments of the night before in my head: the way he had hesitated when I showed up, the casual dismissal when I suggested going out, and most of all, his sudden withdrawal.
The clock on the wall ticked away the time, and still, no word from Juan. It was already afternoon, and I was starting to lose patience. I tried texting him, but my messages went unanswered. I began to wonder if maybe he was avoiding me. Perhaps he had realized this was a bad idea, or maybe he wasn’t as invested in our connection as I had believed.
But what was happening now didn’t align with the man I had spoken to online. The Juan I knew would have at least replied, acknowledged my presence, maybe even reassured me. Instead, he was distant, almost as though I had walked into a scene that wasn’t meant for me.
I sat down on the couch, phone in hand, and scrolled through our past conversations. I remembered how he had been so attentive, always checking in with me, telling me how much he was looking forward to meeting me. The flirtation had felt genuine, and the chemistry between us had seemed real. The man I saw before me, however, seemed like a stranger.
An hour passed, and I decided I couldn’t just sit there waiting anymore. If he wasn’t going to reach out, then I would have to take matters into my own hands. Something was off, and I had to know what it was.
I had originally planned to relax, enjoy the sunshine, maybe explore the town, but instead, I found myself more determined than ever to understand what was going on. I decided to leave the apartment and wander around. Maybe the fresh air would clear my head.
The streets of the small Mexican town were beautiful, and for a while, I allowed myself to get lost in the sights and sounds. I took in the vibrant colors of the buildings, the aroma of street food in the air, and the sounds of chatter in the distance. It was a stunning place, full of life and energy, but all I could think about was what was happening with Juan.
As I walked, I saw a small café with an outdoor seating area. The inviting warmth of the sun and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee beckoned me in. I took a seat at a quiet table and ordered a coffee. While I waited, I tried to distract myself by people-watching, but the pit in my stomach never quite left.
Minutes turned into an hour, and still, no word from Juan. My phone buzzed with a text, and my heart leaped into my throat. I grabbed it, hoping for a message from him. But it was from my sister back home, asking how everything was going. I sighed in frustration and replied with a simple update.
Suddenly, I had the overwhelming urge to go back to Juan’s apartment and confront him. I wasn’t going to sit around any longer pretending everything was fine. I needed answers.
When I returned, I found the apartment door wide open. Juan’s shoes were discarded by the entryway, and the sound of laughter echoed from inside. I stood frozen for a moment, confusion and curiosity battling inside me. Was he home now? Had he been entertaining someone? Or was he just being careless?
I walked inside, the tension thick in the air. I didn’t call out this time. I simply waited, listening. There was another burst of laughter, and this time I recognized the voice. It was a woman’s voice, high-pitched and familiar.
I stepped further into the apartment and froze. There, in the living room, was Juan. But he wasn’t alone. A woman was sitting next to him on the couch, leaning in closely as they shared a laugh.
My heart dropped.
I had to blink a few times to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. The woman looked up at me, and I instantly recognized her. She had dark hair, a friendly smile, and was dressed casually, as though she had been there for a while.
Juan looked up, his expression shifting from one of casual amusement to one of shock. “Lily! What are you doing here?”
The woman beside him quickly stood up, her eyes darting between Juan and me, clearly surprised. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak for a few moments. My thoughts were a jumbled mess.
“Who is this?” I asked, my voice coming out colder than I intended. The knot in my stomach twisted tighter.
Juan stood up, his hands raised in a defensive gesture. “Lily, wait… let me explain.”
I didn’t let him speak. My mind was racing, my heart pounding. The jealousy, the confusion, and the hurt bubbled up to the surface. “Who is she, Juan?” I demanded, my voice shaking. “Why didn’t you tell me about her?”
The woman stepped forward, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
Juan looked between the two of us, and then, with a deep sigh, he finally spoke. “Her name is Carla. She’s… my ex.”
I blinked, unable to process his words. “Your ex?” I repeated, as if saying it again would make more sense. “Then why is she here? Why did you—”
“Lily, please,” Juan cut me off, holding his hands out in a pleading gesture. “This isn’t what you think.”
But it was exactly what I thought. All the doubts I had been pushing aside flooded back into my mind, and I was suddenly overwhelmed with the truth that I had been so blind to see.
Unraveling the Truth
Juan’s attempt to calm me down wasn’t working. My heart was racing, and my thoughts were swirling. Every step I had taken in the last 24 hours had led to this moment — a moment of confusion, betrayal, and heartbreak.
Carla, standing just a few feet away, could see the panic in my eyes. She shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to look at her. I didn’t want to see the pity in her eyes, or worse, the arrogance that often accompanies someone who knows they’ve won.
My focus, instead, was entirely on Juan. I needed answers — I couldn’t walk away until I had them. He had spent weeks convincing me that this was real, that what we shared was something special. But everything he had built now felt like a lie. I had flown across the world for him. I had left my comfort zone, my life, behind — and for what?
“Juan,” I said, my voice shaky but firm. “What the hell is going on here? Why didn’t you tell me she was still in your life?”
Juan’s face twisted with frustration as he took a step toward me. “Lily, please, just hear me out. It’s not what you think.”
“I’ve been hearing what you’ve been telling me for weeks,” I spat, my voice cracking. “I came here to surprise you, and now I find you with her — your ex, the one you never told me about? And you expect me to believe this is some innocent misunderstanding?”
Juan lowered his eyes for a moment, and for the first time since I entered the apartment, I saw a flicker of guilt. “I’m sorry, Lily,” he said quietly. “I should have been honest with you. Carla and I, we’ve been trying to figure things out — I didn’t want to hurt you by bringing up my past. I was focusing on us. I wanted to give us a chance.”
“A chance?” I almost laughed, though it was devoid of humor. “This… this is what you wanted? You’ve been lying to me the entire time?”
I could feel my cheeks flush with heat, my emotions running high. How could I have been so naive? Why hadn’t I seen this before? My mind flashed back to all the red flags I had ignored — his hesitation when we first met, his need for space when we talked about our future, and, most telling of all, his consistent avoidance of any deep personal questions.
Carla’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Juan did care about you, Lily,” she said softly. “He really did. He just… made some bad choices. We both did.”
I turned to look at her, my eyes narrowing. “Bad choices? This isn’t just a bad choice. This is a betrayal. You don’t get to justify this as a ‘bad choice.’” My words felt like they were burning my throat, but I couldn’t stop. “I came here trusting you, Juan. I came here believing that we could have something real, something that could last. And now I find out that this whole time, you’ve been keeping me in the dark.”
Juan stepped closer to me again, but this time, I stepped back, not wanting him anywhere near me. “Lily, please,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I wanted to be honest, I really did. But I didn’t know how to tell you about Carla. We’ve been trying to figure things out, and we’re not together anymore. We’ve been working on closing that chapter of our lives, but I wasn’t sure how to explain it to you.”
“‘Not together anymore?’” I repeated, incredulous. “You think that’s enough of an explanation? You think I’m supposed to just forget all the things you’ve said to me, the promises you’ve made? You’ve kept me in the dark for months, Juan. I don’t even know who you are anymore.”
There was a long silence. The tension in the room was suffocating, and for a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat, pounding in my ears.
Finally, Juan dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry, Lily. I really am. I never meant to hurt you.”
“Then why did you?” I asked quietly, though it felt like I already knew the answer. “Why did you lie to me, Juan? Why did you waste my time and make me think this could be something real?”
I turned to leave, my hand on the door, but Juan called out to me one last time. “Please, Lily, just give me a chance to explain. Don’t walk away.”
But I didn’t need an explanation anymore. The man I thought I knew was gone, and I didn’t want to waste another second on something that wasn’t meant to be.
I stepped out of the apartment and into the street, not looking back. The weight of the situation, the disappointment, and the confusion pressed down on me like a heavy fog. I felt lost, alone in a place that was supposed to bring me peace.
But then, as I stood there, gathering my thoughts, I remembered what had driven me here in the first place: a search for love, for companionship, for something to fill the emptiness that had taken hold of my heart after my marriage ended. What I had found, instead, was a reminder of how easy it was to get caught up in someone else’s story, to be led astray by promises that weren’t true.
The realization hit me like a wave. This was it. This was the end of that chapter. I had to move forward, no matter how hard it was. I couldn’t keep clinging to the idea of someone who didn’t even know how to show up for me.
As I walked down the street, tears stinging my eyes, I vowed to myself that I would never let anyone — not Juan, not anyone — make me feel small again.
Picking Up the Pieces
The air outside was surprisingly cool, and as I walked away from Juan’s apartment, I felt the weight of the last few hours press down on me. It was hard to shake off the feeling of betrayal, but I knew I had to try. This wasn’t the first time life had thrown a curveball my way, but it was certainly one of the hardest to digest.
I made my way to a nearby park, the sound of my footsteps filling the quiet space. The world seemed to continue on as normal, but my mind was far from at ease. I kept replaying every word, every moment from that conversation in my head, hoping there would be something I missed — some sign that I could salvage this. But deep down, I knew there was no going back.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking my thoughts. It was a text from my best friend, Rachel.
“How’s it going? Are you ok?”
I let out a bitter laugh as I typed out my response.
“I’m fine. Just found out the man I came to Mexico for is a liar. Turns out his past is a bit more complicated than he led on. I’m heading back soon.”
I hit send and sat on a bench, staring at the screen. The disappointment in my chest was growing. I had hoped so much that this trip would be the start of something new, something better than the pain I had experienced in my marriage. But now, I wasn’t sure I even knew what that looked like anymore.
My phone buzzed again, and this time Rachel called. I answered immediately, needing the comfort of a familiar voice.
“Lily, what happened?” Rachel’s voice was filled with concern.
I let out a shaky breath. “I went to surprise him, and I found out he’s been keeping a huge secret. His ex—who he’s apparently still dealing with—is living in the same town. He lied about everything. It feels like all the trust I built in him was just… shattered.”
“I’m so sorry, Lily,” Rachel said softly. “You’re so brave for going after what you wanted. But you deserve better than this. You deserve someone who’s going to show up for you. Not someone who keeps secrets.”
I wiped away a tear that had slipped down my cheek, hating how vulnerable I was feeling. “I don’t know what to do, Rachel. I came here thinking that I could start fresh, but now I feel like I’m worse off than when I left.”
“Listen to me,” Rachel said firmly. “You did something brave. You put yourself out there, you tried. And I know it hurts right now, but don’t let this guy define your worth. You are so much stronger than you realize. Don’t let him be your story’s end.”
I felt a small flicker of hope at her words, but it wasn’t enough to calm the storm in my chest. I had trusted Juan with so much of myself, and I couldn’t believe that he had betrayed that trust so easily.
“Thanks, Rachel,” I said, forcing a smile. “I needed to hear that.”
“Anytime, Lily. And hey, if you want to get out of there and come home, I’ll help you book a flight. Just say the word.”
I shook my head, standing up from the bench. “I’ll figure it out. I think I need some time to clear my head first.”
After a few more comforting words, we hung up, and I stood there for a few moments, letting the cool breeze wash over me. I knew Rachel was right. I didn’t need Juan to make me feel validated. I had spent so much of my life depending on others’ approval that I had forgotten how to validate myself.
I took a deep breath and looked around at the park. It was peaceful, and there was a small sense of calm settling in me. Maybe this wasn’t the end of my journey, but just another chapter in it.
I spent the rest of the afternoon walking through the town, getting lost in the unfamiliar streets. I didn’t know where I was going, but I knew I needed to be alone for a while, away from the confusion and pain of the last 24 hours.
Eventually, I found a small café by the beach. It was quiet, with only a few patrons sitting outside, sipping coffee. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore brought a sense of peace I hadn’t felt since I arrived.
I walked in and ordered a coffee, sitting by the window, watching the sun dip below the horizon. For the first time in a long while, I felt a flicker of something other than hurt: clarity. This wasn’t how I thought my life would go, but maybe that was the point. Maybe I needed to stop living my life based on someone else’s script.
I pulled out my phone again and began typing a message to Rachel.
“You’re right. I’m not defined by Juan, and I’m not going to let this be my story’s end. I’m going to take some time for me, for the first time in a long while.”
As I hit send, I realized something profound. This wasn’t just about moving on from Juan. It was about rediscovering who I was. After everything that had happened in my marriage and now this, it was time to put me first.
I smiled to myself, feeling the weight on my shoulders lighten a little.
The next day, I packed my things and prepared to leave Juan’s town. I was disappointed, of course, but I knew it was for the best. I didn’t need a man to complete me — I needed to find myself first. As I boarded my flight back home, I promised myself that this wouldn’t be the last chapter of my journey. It was just a page in a much larger story.
A New Beginning
The flight home was long and exhausting, but as the plane soared through the sky, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The chaos from the last few days started to fade, and I allowed myself to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, but I was learning to embrace that. I didn’t need all the answers right now — I just needed to take the next step forward.
As the plane touched down at home, I felt a mixture of emotions. Part of me was still processing everything that had happened. The shock of Juan’s betrayal, the uncertainty of what my future would hold, and the realization that I had let my guard down for the first time in years.
But there was something else too — a growing sense of possibility. I wasn’t just going back to my old life. I was returning with a renewed sense of self, a determination to take charge of my own happiness, regardless of what anyone else had to say about it.
The first thing I did when I got home was sit down with a cup of tea and call my best friend, Rachel. She had been my rock throughout everything, offering her support and wisdom when I needed it most.
“Rachel, I’m home,” I said, my voice lighter than it had been in days.
“I’m so glad you’re back. How was it? Are you okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern.
I took a deep breath, thinking about everything that had happened. “It was… eye-opening. Definitely not what I expected. But I’m okay. I think I’m actually better than I was before.”
Rachel was quiet for a moment, and I could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke again. “I’m so proud of you. I knew you’d come back stronger.”
“I am,” I replied, a genuine smile tugging at my lips. “I’ve realized that I don’t need someone else to make me happy. I’ve been so focused on finding someone else’s love, but I think it’s time I learn to love myself first.”
“Exactly. You’ve got this, Lily. And you don’t need anyone’s approval to live your life the way you want.”
Her words stuck with me. I had spent so much of my life waiting for external validation — from my ex-husband, from Juan, from anyone who would give me the attention I craved. But the truth was, I had been the one holding myself back. I was the one who needed to start believing in my own worth.
“I’m thinking of doing something for myself,” I said, my mind racing with ideas. “Maybe I’ll take a class, or travel somewhere I’ve always wanted to go. Or hell, maybe I’ll finally start that small business I’ve been putting off.”
Rachel laughed. “I love it! You’ve got the world at your feet, Lily. Don’t wait for anyone to give you permission.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, feeling a spark of excitement. “It’s my time now.”
Over the next few weeks, I threw myself into a new routine. I signed up for a pottery class I had been interested in for years, started volunteering at a local animal shelter, and even began researching how to start a small online business. My days felt fuller, and my heart felt lighter with every new step I took toward reclaiming my independence.
There were moments when doubt would creep in. I still felt vulnerable after everything with Juan, and sometimes the fear of being alone would catch me off guard. But each time I faced those fears, I grew a little stronger. I was learning to be comfortable in my own skin again, something I hadn’t truly felt in a long time.
Then one afternoon, as I was leaving the shelter after my volunteer shift, I received a message. It was from Juan.
“Lily, I’ve been thinking about everything. I owe you an apology for how I treated you. I understand why you’re angry, and I respect your decision to walk away. I hope you can find happiness. I truly wish you the best.”
The message was polite, almost too formal. But I felt a sense of closure. It wasn’t the apology I had wanted — it wasn’t even the closure I had imagined. But it was enough. I didn’t need him to apologize anymore. I had forgiven him long ago, and now it was time to forgive myself.
I deleted the message and set my phone aside, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. I had been holding on to so much bitterness, waiting for him to make things right. But now I realized that it wasn’t his apology I needed. It was my own healing.
A few days later, I had the opportunity to meet with a local business mentor who had agreed to help me with my small business idea. I was nervous at first, unsure if I could really turn my passion into something profitable. But as we discussed my plans, I could feel the excitement growing inside me. This was it — this was my new beginning.
“Lily, you’ve got the drive,” he said, encouraging me. “You just need to take that first step, and the rest will follow. I can help you with the details, but you’ve already got what it takes.”
Those words stuck with me. I had what it took. It was time to stop doubting myself and start trusting in my own abilities.
As I walked out of his office, I realized something. My life wasn’t just about surviving anymore. It was about thriving. I had spent so many years just trying to get by, never truly living for myself. But now, I was going to chase my dreams with everything I had.
The next chapter of my life was beginning, and this time, it was all on my terms.
