I’d rather be humbled by my truth than held hostage by denial.

If there’s one thing I’m not afraid to admit, it’s that my life isn’t polished. It isn’t perfect and most days, it’s wildly unsteady.

Unsteady because the ground I walk on isn’t made of concrete plans or neat timelines—it’s soft, unpredictable. Like rotting tree trunks in a forest, where some steps hold while others sink you in deeper.

Still, I keep on walking.

In anything I do in life, whether I’m leaving a job that drained the life out of me, ending a relationship I once prayed would work, or quietly disappearing from the world to hold myself together—I do it with courage. Not the loud kind but one that still trembles, still doubts, but decides to move anyway.

I always move.

I always believe I’ll make it through.
But my God, the process is brutal.

It’s scary to leave.
To start over.
To look at your life—one you built with so much hope—and feel the quiet ache that whispers “this isn’t what you dreamed of.”

It’s humbling to admit you’ve settled. That what you once called “patience” was actually avoidance. That the thing you hoped would get better…isn’t going to.

And it’s vulnerable to say all this out loud but I’m not afraid to.

Because here’s the thing: the fear of recognizing what is—is the very thing that keeps us stuck and miserable.

And at this point in my life, I’d rather be humbled by my own truth than live in denial of my heart’s desires.

And if that means I have to start over a hundred times—I’ll do it, over and over.

—Rosaura, for The Feminine Ethos