Reflections on Setbacks, Resilience and Finding Inspiration as I Approach 40

I had big dreams of diving into 2025 with a renewed sense of purpose and a sharper focus on blogging. But, as always, life has its way of throwing curveballs. I want to say I feel fulfilled, but the truth is, I don’t. There are still so many goals I’ve been working towards—goals I’ve planned for meticulously, pursued tirelessly, and poured my determination into. Yet, the outcomes remain elusive, and I can’t lie: it’s disappointing.

By 39, I had envisioned a different reality for myself. So many milestones I thought I’d have reached still feel out of grasp. And it’s not for lack of trying—because believe me, I’ve tried. In fact, I’d argue I’ve tried harder than most people I know. But despite all my efforts, I feel like I’m moving backward instead of forward.

Looking back, 2023 was the year life first began testing my resolve. While on vacation in Turkey, I cut my hand on glass, requiring stitches—a first for me and an experience I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Then, in 2024, I fractured my ankle. What was supposed to be a six-week holiday turned into four weeks confined to bed, immobilized and unproductive. With all that downtime, you’d think I’d have blogged more, but I didn’t. I had no motivation, no creative spark. As the year dragged on, my goals became casualties of my frustrations; the more I planned, the more obstacles appeared.

I grew despondent, and it’s a terrible feeling—to pour your heart into things you know you’re capable of achieving, only to see little to no progress. I’ve thrown myself into ventures that others have succeeded in, only to feel like I’m standing still.

The setbacks haven’t stopped there. Recently, I made the difficult decision to pause my life coaching work because my motivation just isn’t where it needs to be. Injuries have kept me from creating new fashion content, and if I’m being honest, I haven’t felt inspired by fashion in quite some time. The desire to shoot, to style, to share—that spark just isn’t there anymore.

And then, five weeks ago, I hurt my back. How? A coughing fit that left my coccyx stiff and my lower back riddled with pain. Since then, I’ve endured sharp, excruciating sensations down my spine and leg. I joke that my face still looks young enough to get carded for cigarettes, but my body feels like it’s fighting against me.

They say bad things happen in threes, and with my hand, my ankle, and now my back, I sincerely hope my streak of bad luck is over. But even so, I can’t seem to muster the energy or enthusiasm I once had.

Don’t get me wrong—I’ve accomplished so much in my 39 years, and for that, I am deeply grateful. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel cheated in some ways. I know I’ve done things that should have propelled me forward, but the traction I’ve been waiting for just hasn’t come. It’s disheartening.

Right now, my social media presence is almost nonexistent. I haven’t posted on Instagram, my TikTok has stalled, and I haven’t promoted my book or eBooks in any meaningful way. The truth is, I’m struggling to see the point when none of it moves me the way it once did.

I hate this bitter taste of disappointment—it’s one I’ve had to swallow more times than I’d like to admit. And while I’m not depressed, I am uninspired. The things that used to bring me joy and drive just… don’t anymore.

As I approach my 40th birthday, I find myself in a strange space, wondering if life will ever align with the dreams I’ve so desperately chased.

For now, I’m taking it one day at a time. I’ll keep you updated.

Follow Me On INSTAGRAM