Honestly, I've wrestled with how to even begin this. I never intended this space to become a chronicle of my mental health, but I realize the importance of sharing an authentic perspective of a life not many experience. A perspective in which even the most beautiful sunsets are heartbreaking when you understand that wherever you go, there you are. So how have I managed to become more lost than I ever have been living these last few months in a tropical paradise?

The motor sail from Miami to the Bahamas was as boring as any sailor could ever wish for, no unexpected weather patterns, just hours of humming along into sunlit blue skies. We checked in at Bimini in the rolliest anchorage we have seen yet. Literally rocking toe rail to toe rail in the ocean waves off the beach. But amidst the physical discomfort, a deeper unease had settled.

I had been making my way down the slippery slope of losing myself for months now. I'm not sure where the trailhead was marked, but I think it's somewhere among the trees of other voices that started to drown out my own. They call it 'people-pleasing,' but it feels more like a slow leak, draining my energy as I strive to fill others' cups. I'm tirelessly, bailing water from every vessel but my own. Yes, helping is good, but when it erodes your boundaries, it becomes a disservice to all. One could argue it's actually a form of manipulation wrapped around the need to use others opinions to boost your own self-worth. Funny thing, the world is a mirror, reflecting the self-respect we already hold – or lack. In the absence of people to please, a stark realization emerged: my inability to please myself is the root of it all.

The more anxious and scared I became about my surroundings, the more I grasped onto external stimulation, searching for affirmations and further abandoning the introspection needed to process a transition like this. My part-time work as a resume coach became a full-time chain to my desk. In the evening my nose was usually stuck in my phone reading an article about the awfulness that is happening in our world feeling more and more helpless to help. My daily tasks of boat's chores, upkeep, and existence became more and more tedious to deal with. I became obsessed with being a good employee, a good citizen of the world, a good partner, that I wasn't allowing myself to just be me. I stopped doing the little things that I know bring me joy. I stopped creating, reaching out to friends, singing at the top of my lungs, swaying my hips to music as I make coffee, noticing the beauty around me. When I opened the floodgates to all the other shouting, I lost MY voice, MY inner guidance. That voice, once a constant companion, however often I may have chosen to ignore it, was now a hollow silence.

Despite my efforts to contain it, my quiet depression began to take up space. It took up space in my mind when we lay watching shooting stars at night. It took up space in crystal-clear waters while amazed at the vibrant, indescribable neon colors of the parrotfish swimming by. It lay heavy on my heart as we celebrated my 40th birthday walking the beach, combing for delicate shells like treasures in the sand. The beauty around me only served to highlight the distance between my experience and what "could be." Guilt and shame followed quickly behind as I blamed myself for letting this opportunity slip through my fingers, and worse ruining the adventure for the person I love most in this world.

I had gotten caught up in a cycle of negativity. One negative thought led to another, then multiplied to the nth degree of a spiraling, cyclone out-of-control. It all finally came crashing down somewhere between Staniel and Big Major Cay. And in that moment of collapse, I was reminded, yet again, of the extraordinary power found in the sisterhood of women. I called all my lifelines that day and then the next and the next. I have been held in their words and love, their empathy and support, their kindness and their strength, their knowing of my heart as they told it back to me. I could feel the slivers of light peeking through.

When we anchored in Black Pointe, I was fortunate to converse with a lovely new friend. She was kind enough to share with me how hard the first year of cruising was for her. She said she cried every day for six months, and in that moment, tears of relief rolled down my cheeks. Relief in a shared experience. Relief in seeing her resilience and the hope that I could come to love this life or at least the rest of this journey. I was so encouraged by our exchange I decided to begin again as ME. I have started to pick up the joys I know and love, I have started to set boundaries, I have started to regain my self-worth. Oh, and yes, I started counseling; hahaha, you better believe I started seeking professional help. I can confidently say I am doing so much better.

I am so very fortunate and grateful to have the support that I do. I am coming out of this downward spiral and gaining some perspective. I am taking steps to live this beautiful, heartbreaking, joyful, scary, magnificent life for ME. Yes, alongside my partner, but still for ME. What we are doing is not a vacation; it's our life, so we can't abandon the integral parts of ourselves. I have to find time for creativity, dancing, and singing at the top of my lungs, and community. We WILL be making more time for community!

I have so many wonderful things to look forward to. I am so grateful and excited to say that in three days, my best friend will be flying in for a visit, and shortly after, we have a visit from another beautiful soul. We have also changed up our cruising route, switching to the Abacos in search of more possible buddy boats and socialization. I have been doing the small things I can to participate in standing up for what I believe is right. I am picking up the paint swatches and fabric samples to not give up on MY dream. Please know, I am doing really well and so proud of myself for the effort and progress I am making. I will try and share more of the amazing parts of this trip, but I wanted an opportunity to continue to share my experience, especially now that I feel it could be helpful to other women who have found themselves trying to dream someone else's dream.

Ok - enough of that - Here are some amazing things that have happened so far: See photos!!
pod of 7 dolphins welcoming us to Honeymoon Harbor

Patrick becoming a sourdough bread-baking fiend