The Me I Was is a story about losing everything—and discovering that loss can be a beginning.
At twenty-six, already worn thin by survival and regret, I was living a life fueled by validation and obligation rather than desire. When a motorcycle accident shattered my body and erased the future I had been clinging to, I found myself alone, untethered, and unwilling to live the life now being offered to me.
This memoir begins in that dark, suspended space—where hope feels dishonest and continuing feels optional.
What unfolds is not a heroic recovery story, nor a tidy redemption arc. It is an honest reckoning with grief, identity, and self-loathing. It is a slow, imperfect journey inward—toward my own understanding of God, toward gratitude that doesn’t bypass pain, and toward a version of joy that feels earned rather than promised.
The Me I Was is for those who have experienced collapse: physical, emotional, spiritual, or all three. For anyone who has lost the person they thought they were—and is wondering whether loving life, and themselves, is still possible.
The Me I Was is a story about losing everything—and discovering that loss can be a beginning.
At twenty-six, already worn thin by survival and regret, I was living a life fueled by validation and obligation rather than desire. When a motorcycle accident shattered my body and erased the future I had been clinging to, I found myself alone, untethered, and unwilling to live the life now being offered to me.
This memoir begins in that dark, suspended space—where hope feels dishonest and continuing feels optional.
What unfolds is not a heroic recovery story, nor a tidy redemption arc. It is an honest reckoning with grief, identity, and self-loathing. It is a slow, imperfect journey inward—toward my own understanding of God, toward gratitude that doesn’t bypass pain, and toward a version of joy that feels earned rather than promised.
The Me I Was is for those who have experienced collapse: physical, emotional, spiritual, or all three. For anyone who has lost the person they thought they were—and is wondering whether loving life, and themselves, is still possible.
Image 1 of 2
Image 2 of 2