INTRODUCTION

Before We Talk About the Woman You're Becoming

Before we talk about the woman you're becoming, we need to talk about the woman who's been keeping you alive. Her. The one who figured it out when there wasn't anybody coming to figure it out for her. The one who learned how to keep moving even when she was tired, hurt, disappointed, confused, angry, afraid, or completely unsure of what she was doing. The one who got up because somebody needed her. The one who smiled because explaining what was really going on would have taken too much energy. The one who said, "I'm good," because sometimes that was easier than telling the truth. The one who learned how to survive.

I know her. And if you're holding this book, there's a good chance you know her too. Maybe you're still her.

I want you to understand something before we go any further: this book isn't about convincing you that everything about your life is wrong. I'm not here to tell you that the woman you are today isn't good enough. I'm asking you something different: Is she still the woman you need to be?

Sometimes we become so good at surviving one version of our lives that we don't realize we're carrying that same version of ourselves into places where she is no longer necessary. That's what this book is about. Not becoming somebody fake. Not chasing some perfect version of womanhood. Not pretending the past didn't happen. This is about recognizing when something has ended, even when part of you is still living like it's happening.

You don't live there anymore.

What Is "There"?

"There" isn't always a physical place. Sometimes it's a relationship. Sometimes it's childhood. Sometimes it's the house you grew up in. Sometimes it's something somebody did to you. Sometimes it's the mistake you still haven't forgiven yourself for. Sometimes it's rejection, abandonment, addiction, motherhood before you were ready, divorce, grief, failure, being broke, being afraid, or being the woman everybody depended on while quietly wondering who you could depend on.

"There" can be anything that happened in one season of your life but somehow gained permission to keep influencing every season that came after it. You left the place. You left the person. You survived the situation. Years may have passed. But sometimes your mind still goes back there. Your reactions go back there. Your relationships go back there. Your choices go back there.

And sometimes, without realizing it, you begin decorating an old address. You make yourself comfortable inside beliefs that were created during one of the most uncomfortable periods of your life. I can't trust anybody. People always leave. I have to do everything myself. I'm not good enough. Nothing ever works out for me. I missed my chance. This is just who I am. But is it? Or is that who you became when life required something different from you?

Survival Can Look Like Strength

One of the hardest things to recognize is survival when everybody else calls it strength. People may admire the very things that are exhausting you. They see the woman who handles everything. They don't see the woman who doesn't know how to ask for help. They see independence. They don't see the fear of depending on anybody. They see somebody who never quits. They don't see the guilt you feel whenever you rest.

Some of those survival skills were necessary. Some saved you. Some protected your children. Some helped you walk away. Some kept food on the table. Some got you through nights you didn't think you'd make it through. We aren't going to disrespect that woman. We're going to thank her. But we're also going to ask whether she can put some of that weight down now.

So Who Is "The Woman After This"?

That's the question we're going to spend this book answering. Not my answer. Yours. Your "this" might be the hardest year of your life, the end of a relationship, losing somebody, rebuilding financially, raising children and realizing you stopped knowing who you were outside of being somebody's mother, sickness, betrayal, starting over, a delayed dream, or simply the realization: I don't want to live the rest of my life like this.

The woman after this isn't perfect. She isn't fearless. She doesn't have every answer. She's simply different because she stopped allowing yesterday to make every decision about tomorrow. She knows where she's been, but she also knows: That's not where I live anymore.

I'm Not Talking At You

I'm not sitting on the other side of these pages pretending I've mastered life. I'm not writing to you from some perfect place where everything makes sense. I'm a woman too. I've had chapters of my life I wouldn't have chosen. I've survived things that changed me. I've had to learn that healing doesn't only require me to acknowledge what somebody else did to me. Sometimes it requires me to acknowledge what I started doing to myself afterward.

There comes a point where the question changes. It stops being only, What happened to me? And eventually becomes, What am I going to do with the woman who survived it? That's where responsibility enters the conversation. Not blame. Responsibility. You can be completely innocent in what happened to you and still become responsible for what happens next.

This Book Requires Your Participation

You can read every page of this book and change absolutely nothing. Books don't change lives simply because somebody finishes them. Information isn't transformation. Recognition isn't transformation. Even inspiration isn't transformation. Transformation requires participation.

Every chapter will give you something substantial to read, consider, challenge, question, and learn from. Then we're going to reflect. Finally, we're going to do something. The exercises are here because I don't want you leaving these pages with nothing but highlighted sentences and good intentions. Tell yourself the truth. Nobody has to see these pages but you. Give yourself the freedom to stop performing here.

Where We're Going

First, we're going backward. Not to stay, but to understand. Part One asks: Where has she been? Then we'll come to the present. Part Two asks: Where is she now? Then we turn toward the future. Part Three asks: How does she get there?

The goal was never to erase the woman you used to be. We need her. She has wisdom. She has receipts. She knows what didn't work. We're not burying her. We're letting her teach us. And then we're letting her rest.

Before We Begin

If this season of your life ended today, who would you want to be when you walked out of it? Not what would you want to have. Not who would you want beside you. Who would you want to be?

Maybe you don't know yet. That's okay. We're going to find her. But before we can meet the woman after this, there's somebody we need to understand first: the woman who got you here.

We're going back. Not to move in. Just to collect what's ours.