Life as a mom to five rambunctious boys, ages three to eleven, was always a beautiful, chaotic whirlwind. My days were a blur of superhero capes, scraped knees, and endless laughter. And Papi, was right there with me, a 100% involved partner in our adventure-seeking, rough-and-tumble crew. We were a unit, a vibrant, constantly moving force, always ready for the next escapade. Being a mom was — and still is — my greatest joy. Even as a motivated, career-driven entrepreneur, I always carved out as much time as humanly possible for my boys.
Then, a few months ago, our world shattered. A horrible separation ripped our family apart, leaving me with an emptiness I never knew possible. Jasper, my sweet nine-year-old, and Mateo, my spirited six-year-old, were suddenly out of my daily life. The pain is a constant ache, a gaping wound that refuses to heal. I mourn the loss of the amazing family we built, the future we envisioned, and the presence of two of my precious boys. Every day is a struggle to navigate this new, fractured reality.
Finding My Footing Again: A Journey to Self-Love
In the raw, throbbing aftermath of it all, I found myself adrift. My identity had been so intricately woven into the fabric of our family unit, into being “Mom” to five boys. The owner of the best “6-pack” of boys and Papi. Without those anchors, I felt lost at sea. But amidst the overwhelming grief and confusion, a quiet whisper began to emerge. A whisper that spoke of me.
For so long, my self-worth had been, perhaps unconsciously, tied to the approval and love of others, especially Papi. He made me feel important, valued, desired. And while that love was real and cherished, I realized I had inadvertently outsourced my own sense of self-worth. Now, in this profound solitude, I was forced to confront a fundamental question: Could I love myself, unconditionally, without anyone else’s validation?
It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once. The answer, I slowly began to discover, was a resounding yes. This journey of self-discovery, of reprioritizing myself, has been the most challenging yet rewarding experience of my life. It began with small, almost imperceptible shifts. Instead of rushing to fill every quiet moment with work or worrying about what I “should” be doing, I started asking myself: What do I want to do? What makes me feel good?
I started with the basics: nourishing my body with good food, ensuring I got enough sleep, and, perhaps most crucially, moving my body. The gym became my sanctuary. It wasn’t just about physical strength; it was about reclaiming my power, proving to myself that I was capable, resilient. Those leg days? They became a metaphor for my life: pushing through the burn, knowing that with each rep, I was building strength not just in my quads, but in my spirit.
Rediscovering My Passions and Living for Myself
As my physical strength grew, so did my mental fortitude. I began to remember the things that used to light me up, the passions I’d tucked away amidst the joyful chaos of raising five boys. Travel, my first love, bubbled to the surface. The freedom of opens paces, the thrill of new landscapes, the boundless opportunities for adventure – that’s where my spirit truly soars. And while sharing it with all five of my boys was a dream, I realized sharing it with my three boys now – MJ (11), Matthew (9), and Jack (3) – was still an incredible gift that was still right there.
So as scared and overwhelmed as I was, I decided to embark on our first trip in our new, smaller family, to Tennessee. It was just us, the four of us, and a mountain of anticipation. This trip was different. It wasn’t about proving anything to anyone, or trying to recreate what once was. It was about us, now. It was about me, stepping into a new role, confident in my ability to lead and nurture our little tribe.
One of MJ’s favorite things to do is fish, and we’d always relied on Papi to handle the boat. But this time, I decided to learn to drive a pontoon boat myself. The first time I revved that engine and navigated us out onto the lake, a surge of pure triumph (and fear!) coursed through me. The boys cheered, and in their eyes, I saw not just admiration, but a new kind of respect. It wasn’t about being perfect; it was about trying, learning, and conquering. We spent hours casting lines, laughing at our catches (or lack thereof), and simply being present in the moment.
The highlight of the trip, for me, was a hike into a breathtaking canyon to see and swim at the base of a waterfall. The trail was rugged, a true test of endurance. Matthew, with his endless energy, practically skipped along. MJ, my independent eleven-year-old, raced off head, begging for more daring trails down steeper rock faces. And little Jack, my three-year-old dynamo, started strong but eventually ran out of steam. As we began the ascent back up, his little legs gave out. Without a second thought, I scooped him up. He was a dead weight, but as I carried him, one arm cradling his sleepy body, the other hand finding purchase on rocks and roots, I felt a strength I hadn’t known I possessed.
My legs burned, my lungs ached, but I kept going. And in that moment, I silently thanked all those grueling leg days at the gym. They had prepared me for this. They had given me the physical capacity to be the strong, capable mom my boys needed. But more than that, they had instilled in me a deeper belief in my own resilience, my own power. I made it to the top, Jack still nestled in my arms, and as I looked out over the vast expanse, a profound sense of accomplishment washed over me. I did this. I could do this.
The Best Relationship You’ll Ever Have
This journey has been far from easy. There are still days when the grief threatens to consume me, days when I yearn for the family that was. But amidst the pain, an incredible transformation has occurred. I’m learning to be kind to myself, to listen to my own needs, and to prioritize my well-being. I’m actively seeking out the things that bring me joy, whether it’s a quiet moment with a good book, a challenging hike, or a spontaneous dance party with my boys.
Relationships are undeniably hard. They can bring immense joy, but they can also bring intense pain. They can make you feel incredible, but they can also make you question your worth. I’ve learned that depending on someone else to define your value is a precarious foundation. The most stable, fulfilling, and enduring relationship you will ever have is the one you cultivate with yourself.
Learning to love yourself unconditionally, flaws and all, is the most powerful and liberating act you can undertake. It’s about recognizing your inherent worth, celebrating your strengths, and embracing your imperfections. It’s about becoming your own biggest cheerleader, your own safest harbor. And as I continue to navigate this new chapter, one pontoon boat ride, one waterfall hike, one grateful leg day at a time, I know that this journey of self-love is the greatest adventure of all.