I used to be paralyzed by fear – fear of failure, fear of letting others down, fear of not being enough.
Fear and anxiety were my constant companions, and I became all too familiar with the feeling of burning acid in my throat.
It wasn’t until later in life that I realized this wasn’t what life was supposed to be like.
Most people around me didn’t seem to struggle with these emotions as I did.
I thought everyone was trapped in their heads just as much as I was.
When I finally realized that what I had been experiencing all these years was anxiety, I started to believe that there was something wrong with me.
I felt broken and I didn’t think it was possible for me to be fixed.
Looking back, my earliest memories of anxiety date back to my childhood.
I had a packed schedule of activities, and I put a lot of pressure on myself to perform well in everything I did.
I was the girl that could do almost everything fairly well and even got good grades.
It must have seemed to everyone around me that my life was perfect, which is exactly why I was so confused about the extreme fear that seemed to live inside my head.
I would often dread leaving my house. I remember faking sickness on occasion when I was feeling particularly uneasy so I could stay home.
Every time I had to go somewhere new or try something different, I suffered from severe stomach aches, dry mouth, shaky hands, and a racing heart.
I desperately avoided stepping out of my comfort zone for fear of making a fool of myself, yet I continued to push myself to be the best even when I knew it was taking a toll on me.
I lived as if my life would have no worth if it wasn’t for the things I achieved.
By my senior year, I was a captain on the soccer team, the lead in the school play, and the valedictorian of my class.
Through it all, I continued to hold high expectations of myself and paid little attention to the turmoil that I was experiencing inside.
Though I tried counseling in high school, a short session with the school counselor left me feeling invalidated.
She suggested that her time was better spent with more at-risk students.
This triggered a spiral of self-doubt, and I was left feeling that I needed to “just get over it.”
As life moved on, I experienced a constant battle with myself.
Through many ups and downs, I continued to battle my inner fears.
Toward the end of highschool, I began experiencing asthma attacks that didn’t act like typical asthma attacks.
Later down the road, I recognized them as panic attacks that I would experience during particularly important games on the soccer field.
One even landed me in the emergency room when my inhaler didn’t help.
As a Christian, everything I went through felt like a spiritual struggle.
I clung to my prayer life, asking Jesus every day to not let me drown in anxiety and depression.
Deep down, I never gave up hope that I could one day have the life that He had planned for me.
A turning point came in high school when I took a General Psychology class.
As someone who struggled with debilitating fear and self-doubt, learning about human behavior opened up a world that I had never considered before.
I dreamed of one day overcoming my mental health struggles and using my knowledge to help others.
The idea of working in human services seemed like the perfect fit, and back then, I never second guessed that this is what I wanted to do with my life.
For the first time, I felt like everything was falling into place, and I started to believe that things could actually work out after all.
But despite my busy schedule and overachiever attitude, I still didn’t know what it truly meant to defy all odds and work hard for what I wanted.
My anxiety had always been my biggest challenge, but everything else seemed to come easy to me.
That’s why, when I eventually went to college at seventeen, I completely burned out.
At first, college felt like freedom. I was away from my family, and for the first time, I didn’t feel the pressure to perform well to make my loved ones proud.
I thought that the life that I was creating for myself in college was the definition of a slow, simple, stress free existence, but I quickly realized that, in reality, it was an excuse not to try.
I convinced myself that I didn’t need to prove anything, but deep down, I was terrified of putting myself out there only to fail.
I struggled to find what made me special anymore, now that I was surrounded by others who could do exactly what I could do – or even better.
In a world where my achievements defined me, I didn’t know who I was if I was no longer the smart one, the athletic one, or the musical one.
I avoided clubs and activities and withdrew further into myself.
Just like in highschool, I was letting my fears control me, but in a completely different way.
Still, college wasn’t all bad. I made the brave decision to trust myself and my own decisions by converting to Catholicism and becoming engaged to my high school sweetheart, despite knowing that many people might not agree with my decisions.
My new Catholic faith and my fiancé Gabriel became my anchors, my shining lights in the dark storm.
Despite everything that was going right, my inability to evolve and grow as a person eventually caught up with me, and I was hit with an episode of severe depression during my last semester of college.
The smallest inconveniences left me feeling hopeless, and I isolated myself from my friends and family.
I found it hard to believe that things could ever get better.
It was hard to get out of bed every day and face my responsibilities, especially with graduation and wedding preparations just around the corner.
I sought out help from a counselor on campus and was officially diagnosed with severe depression.
It seemed impossible for me to understand how nobody around me noticed that something was wrong.
I showed up to classes as usual and grabbed food from the cafeteria, but besides that, I did little else.
I gained fifteen pounds, and there were days when I didn’t speak to anyone.
I was scared to open up to my friends or family because I didn’t want anyone to worry about me.
I pretended like everything was okay, but inside, I felt like an empty shell.
When I wasn’t crying, I was void of all emotion entirely, and my thoughts were terrifying.
I was stuck inside a prison in my own head and I desperately wanted to be saved.
I didn’t know why all of this was happening to me, and while I wasn’t in immediate danger, deep down, I knew I didn’t want to keep living if this is what life was going to be like for me.
Day by day, things started to get a little bit better.
The weather got warmer, I spent more time in prayer, and I continued to show up to my therapy sessions.
My fiance continued to support and encourage me through the worst days of my life.
Even when my thoughts told me he should just give up on me, he never did.
I never understood why he would want someone as broken as me to be his wife and the mother of his children.
He must have been able to see the potential in me back then that I couldn’t seem to see.
He must have known that I was meant to be his wife, no matter what. He continued to show up for me in my times of need and never failed to remind me of my worth.
I always thought that everything happened for a reason, but I couldn’t seem to understand what I was supposed to learn from this season of suffering.
I wanted to believe that this experience changed me for the better, I didn’t want to accept that it had all happened for nothing.
Whether this was an evil attack designed to keep me from entering into my holy vocation of marriage, or a mental and emotional cleansing from God to prepare me for that same thing, I will never know.
What I do know now, though, is that when you have tasted despair and lived long enough to rise from the ashes, it makes the little things in life that much sweeter.
I started to find beauty in the strangest of places, and I rejoiced in my ability to see life with open eyes and an open heart again.
My depression was a wake up call.
It serves as a reminder that I can’t ever allow myself to drift back to that place again.
My depression taught me to be grateful for the beautiful things in life.
It taught me to appreciate every positive thought I have because I know what it is like to live in a world without them.
My depression eventually passed, and Gabriel and I got married that fall.
Life started to feel much brighter.
Being married and working a full-time job made me feel older, more mature, and better equipped to handle my emotions.
Every once in a while, my old fears would resurface, and I would again find myself doubting my self-worth and feeling as though I was broken and would never reach my full potential.
But I knew things needed to change when I saw that positive pregnancy test.
In that moment, when I realized I was pregnant, my life became so much bigger than just me.
I decided I couldn’t keep letting life pass me by, afraid to truly live.
I had a life to take care of now, a life that relied entirely on me.
I realized that whether my issues stemmed from a mental health condition or a weak will, it truly didn’t matter.
What mattered now was becoming the best possible version of myself for my baby.
I dove deep into learning all I could about pregnancy, birth, and newborn care.
I wanted to play an active role in making decisions about my baby’s health, not just follow the advice of others blindly.
I immersed myself in books, listened to podcasts, and consumed birth stories and evidence-based statistics daily.
For once, I wasn’t letting life happen to me – I was taking control and carving out my own destiny.
My pregnancy was relatively easy aside from some morning sickness in the first trimester, and I began to gain confidence in my ability to protect and care for my unborn child.
In the last few months of my pregnancy, Gabriel and I decided I should quit my job on the Inpatient Psychiatric Unit due to safety concerns.
Around the same time, we switched our pregnancy care from the hospital to a local birth center.
These weren’t easy decisions, but we trusted ourselves enough to know we were making the best choices that we could for our family.
Our son Isaac was born on the first day of May 2024.
The birth was traumatic, but it was also empowering.
Due to complications with his umbilical cord being wrapped multiple times around his neck and body, his heart beat started to drop to an alarmingly low rate.
There were moments when I feared that I would lose him, but God protected us.
He gave me the strength that I needed to persevere through the most terrifying moment of my life.
Against all odds, I gave birth to my son before my body was fully ready, so our midwife could release him from his entanglement before it was too late.
While reflecting on the emotional rollercoaster of that moment, I realized that the love I had for my son and my refusal to quit fighting for him is ultimately what saved his life.
Isaac’s birth taught me the power of womanhood and helped me see the inner strength that was inside me all along.
It showed me that I am capable of hard things.
It taught me that my actions can have a huge impact on the world.
Isaac’s birth helped me learn to trust myself and gave me a new sense of confidence I never thought possible.
Inspired by my newfound purpose in life as a mother, I was ready to move forward and take on life with passion and enthusiasm, dedicating myself to becoming the best possible version of myself for my son.
Becoming a mother saved my life.
It helped me break free from disordered thinking, take responsibility for my life, and fight passionately for my future.
Even when things don’t go my way, I find hope in knowing that I control how I react to my circumstances.
I have the power to influence my life, and no longer do I need to let fear and anxiety make the final decision.
Becoming a mother taught me that success isn’t measured by achievements or money, but by the deepest dreams of your heart, your refusal to quit when things get tough, and the kindness you show others along the way.
My son shows me every day that life is worth living and that I am enough, just as I am.
Raising him is the most important thing I will ever do, and nothing will define me more than the way I love and am loved in return.
If you can relate to any part of my story, know that there is hope.
There is always something better waiting for you, even if you can’t see it yet.
You have the power to create a beautiful life for yourself.
You have the power to reject fear and embrace life for what it is – and what you can make it become.
A few years ago, I never would have imagined the things that I have overcome and the person I am today.
I used to live in fear, afraid to try new things or be myself, because I was too scared to fail. So I failed to even try.
Today, I am confident in myself and my motherhood, actively fighting for a better future for my family every day.
I used to believe there was nothing special about me and that I had nothing original to say.
Today, I am rejecting my old thinking and daring to create my own blogging business, because I never know what I can accomplish if I never try.
I hope my story can make a difference in your life.
I hope my experiences can help you find confidence in yourself and embrace personal growth.
I created this blog because I want to use my own experiences to help people like me, who are dealing with similar battles.
Everyone faces fear, self-doubt, and anxiety.
Too often, as mothers, we worry we’re not doing a good job, and we feel unsure or guilty about our decisions.
This blog is my love letter to all the moms who want to reject disordered thinking and work towards a life where stress doesn’t interfere with our ability to live fully, so we can focus on our children.
I believe women are powerful forces, capable of anything we set our minds to.
The best mother is the one who is unapologetically herself, showing her children through her actions what it means to work hard, love others, and trust in yourself.
Motherhood is sanctifying, cleansing, healing, and life-giving.
Becoming a mother saved my life, and even when fear tries to return, I find refuge in the fact that God called me specifically to love and care for my son.
True love requires self-sacrifice.
We were put on this earth not to live for ourselves, but for others.
To me, motherhood is the complete and full manifestation of this truth.
xoxo,
Mekenzi
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