Today, I sat in the quiet and realized I had lost myself in ways I can't quite explain.

I have spent so much time weaving small lies to make my life look better — perhaps in a desperate attempt to salvage a version of myself I should have let go of long ago. When I finally forced myself to look in the mirror, I didn't recognize the woman staring back. I spent years chasing ghosts, pursuing dreams that weren't mine, looking for peoples validation and trying to mend everyone and everything else while I slowly unraveled.

If you were to ask me who I am in this moment, I would have no answer for you.

But today, something internal finally snapped, and the neglect became impossible to ignore. I looked at my unstyled hair, my undone nails, and the weight I've carried — both physically and emotionally — and I felt a sharp pang of resentment for the woman in the mirror. I hated how far I had let myself go. I hated the mountain of excuses I had built to avoid showing up for my own life.

I searched for the girl I used to be, but I couldn't find her.

Then, a phone call from a friend changed how I saw myself. She stayed on the line as I mourned for my former self — that vibrant girl who loved fashion, whose hair was a defiant shade of ginger, sometimes blonde and who wore the most eccentric earrings like armor. I held my head in shame, knowing I had allowed my spirit to break, given parts of me I would never get back and compromised far more than I would ever admit. My friend listened as my quiet sobs gave way to guttural wails, and when the air finally cleared, she offered the truth I was too afraid to tell myself:

"July, forgive yourself. Learn to live again — God isn't against it. Discover who you are in this season. Find the things that make you tilt your head back and laugh until the room feels small. Find your aesthetic again. Be colorful. Wear the boldest, strangest earrings you can find. Care for people, yes, but never to the point of self-extinction. Love this version of yourself even as you refine her. Take care of yourself, July. Just breathe."

She reminded me that I hadn't lost my spark; I had just stopped looking for it.

And those words revived something in me I had long forgotten- this wasn't all I was, my life is bigger than this. I needed to move forward. So, instead of sinking into the weight of "what was," I am choosing to love this new July. My laughter might be quieter than it once was, but it is honest. My style might be less flamboyant, but I am reclaiming my color — even if that means starting with black and the occasional, stubborn flash of yellow.

I am choosing to love this version of me while I do the work of making her better. I don't need a gallery of spectators to validate this transformation. For the first time in my life, I am doing this solely for the woman in the mirror.

This is me being vulnerable — a rare occurrence. But I am sharing this for the women who feel misplaced in their own lives. For the woman who anchors everyone else while she quietly sinks; who sees everyone's needs but remains a ghost in her own home.

I need you to hear this: It is okay if you never become "that young girl" again. But what's not okay, is remaining a stranger to yourself. You can be something far greater- A woman who knows her worth and refuses to be small or silenced again. A woman deeply founded in God.

Find yourself. Build a future in God, one filled with color, fun and entirely yours. Do anything and everything else — but do not stop here and wallow.

GROW.