After editing xxx number of stories, re-writing one story, finalizing the hiring of one freelancer, I sat on my front steps this afternoon to savor the breeze outside MY house. It hasn’t sunk yet that I own this house. Construction isn’t finished yet (they’re still spray-painting my stair handles and building my laundry area) but I’m here, living in it. It may be small but it’s mine and I can do whatever the hell I want with it.

The view is still messy but I own that view. This moment is a reward for all the shit I’ve been through.

My eyes are watering right now…they’re tears of joy and appreciation. I was already crushed to death but here I am, able to rise from the dead by myself.

I couldn’t have done this without the support of my family, especially my mother. They also put up with almost 10 months of construction craziness.

And to God. It wouldn’t have been possible without Him. I would have been a depressed alcoholic wreck if not for Him.❤️

It’s raining like crazy now outside. I no longer have to feel anxious about a leaking roof or flooding. I would just have to make sure that my screens are tight so that bugs wouldn’t get in.

Do I have to go through hell to be able to do this for me? Probably. Because if I still had a partner, I would have prioritized him and his goals and not mine. I would have made sure that he is happy first before I become happy. This is the first time I had loved myself and the first time someone gave me this kind of gift. No one could have given me this but myself. Because apparently, no one would be able to love me as I had loved my partner. 🤷🏻‍♀️ This is not a pity party; I’m just stating a fact.

So lesson learned: invest in myself.