Built for the Rebuild, Fueled by Gratitude

This week? Whew. A rollercoaster—with no seatbelt, no brakes, and a suspicious rattling noise that I chose to ignore.

It started with realizing I’m not getting as much from my GI Benefits as I expected. That hit harder than I’d like to admit. I had done what I thought was the responsible thing—budgeted, planned, mapped out bills. But the numbers didn’t add up, and suddenly, my bank account was looking at me like, “Girl, what happened?” Cue the financial panic spiral. I overspent. I

landed myself in the hole. So I did what any resourceful person would do—

I picked up food deliveries to try and cover the gap.

And just when I thought I was finding a rhythm in the chaos… bam. A car accident. While trying to hustle. Trying to make ends meet. Trying to do the right thing. There’s irony in that, right? Life’s way of saying, “Not so fast.”

To say I feel like I’m drowning would be an understatement. I’ve been walking around with that lump in my throat, that tightness in my chest. You know the feeling—the one that tells you you’re dangerously close to a breakdown if one more thing goes wrong.

But in the mess of it all, I’ve been forcing myself—gently but firmly—to remember what I still have. Because the storm is loud, but my blessings still speak if I quiet myself long enough to hear them.

🙏 I’m grateful for insurance. Things can be replaced. Cars can be fixed. I’m okay, and that’s what matters most.

💸 I’m grateful that money, while stressful and annoying and all too fleeting, is a renewable resource. It goes, but it also comes.

❤️ I’m grateful for my family—for being the net that catches me, even when I try to act like I don’t need catching.

🧘‍♀️ I’m grateful for resilience. For the times I’ve already survived, and the reminders that I’ve been here before and came out stronger.

And today—of all days—I’m especially grateful for my dad.

Father’s Day has a different weight this year. Maybe it’s the emotional exhaustion, maybe it’s the overwhelming gratitude, or maybe it’s just the timing of life smacking me around. But one thing’s for sure: I would not be standing—hell, I’d barely be crawling—without my dad.

I can’t thank the universe (or the gods, or pure cosmic accident) enough for him knocking up my mom. Because wow… what a man he turned out to be.

The one who stepped up without being asked.

The one who listens when I’m venting, even when he doesn’t fully understand.

The one who holds me accountable without making me feel small.

The one who loves me loud, even if he’s not always great with words.

The one who passed on his sass, his fire, and yes—his signature pettiness. (Petty Perry strikes again.)

He taught me to be strong, not because life is easy, but because it won’t always be. He showed me how to keep moving, how to laugh through the tears, and how to stand my ground—even when it feels like the earth beneath me is shaking.

So yeah, life might be testing me. But it clearly forgot: I was built for the rebuild. I’ve got grit in my bones, faith in my heart, and a little bit of my dad’s stubbornness in my soul.

If you believe in anything—God, the Universe, good vibes, crystals, or just a really good iced coffee—send a little something up for me today.

Momma’s holding it together, but I could use the glue.

To anyone else out there struggling: you’re not alone. We fall. We hustle. We break. But we also rebuild. And on the days we feel like we’ve got nothing left, sometimes gratitude is the only thing we can afford to carry.