Recently, I had a day that was both ordinary and unusual. I found two “difficult” situations waiting for me in just one hour. The first was a piece of mail addressed to Emily. The second was a notification from Walgreens that my insurance wouldn’t let me fill my prescription yet—if I chose to fill it anyway, it would cost over $500 (typically less than $50).

Two years ago, just one of these moments—the mail addressed to Emily or the expensive prescription fiasco—would have ruined my entire day (and maybe even the rest of the week).

I would have cried. I would have blamed myself. I would have felt so overwhelmed by emotions that I would have “fallen off the deep end.”

But none of that happened at all. Instead, I texted my two best friends a picture of the mail with the caption, “Why?!” Then, I said something so simple, yet so profound, it had to come with me to therapy:

I don’t know what to do with this version of myself where I calmly navigate these situations without losing my shit.

That moment made me realize just how much I’ve grown—and how we all can turn life’s challenges into opportunities for transformation.

Life’s Lessons: The Good, The Bad, and The Transformative

Growth rarely happens in a straight line. Life has a way of teaching us lessons in both the joyful and the painful moments, and each holds its own kind of power.

There are the good moments—the ones that fill your heart with love and show you what it means to be truly happy. These moments give you the foundation to believe in yourself and in the beauty of life.

I am very blessed to have experienced many of these “good” moments.

Some, like graduating college, felt monumental. I was a first-generation college student who worked her ass off the entire four and a half years I was in school. I laid a solid groundwork for myself by obtaining scholarships, but even those didn’t cover everything. So, I got a part-time job.

Some days, I would wake up at 6:00 am, ride my bike to campus, sit in classes and rehearsals from 8:00 am until 3:00 pm, then bike back to my apartment so I could drive to work. I would work from 4:00 pm until 9:30 pm, then drive home and complete assignments or head to campus to utilize a practice room.

Looking back, I don’t know how I did it, but those years taught me so much about hard work and dedication. They required time management skills, healthy boundary-setting, and money management. Most of all, I cultivated friendships that continue to thrive over 14 years later.

Unfortunately, not every moment in our lives is filled with rainbows and unicorns. We also experience dark moments—times that nearly break us, shatter our confidence, and create more questions than answers. But as painful as they are, these moments create the fertile ground necessary for growth.

My divorce is one of many examples of this. At first, I was devastated. The life I had planned was crumbling around me. I worried about how I would survive and about the impact on my children. I didn’t think it was possible to live alone, to exist without someone else. I believed I lacked the strength, confidence, and intelligence to “go it alone.”

And yet, I didn’t just survive—I thrived.

I worked through unresolved pieces of my past. I broke down the towers of lies my brain had fed me for over a decade. I created a home that felt like a safe haven instead of a fortress of fear and isolation. I allowed parts of myself that always hid in the shadows out into the light.

Ultimately, what initially felt like one of the worst moments in my life ended up being a moment of clarity and redemption.

But not all moments in our lives fit neatly into “good” or “bad.” In fact, the concept of dialectics—the idea that two opposing truths can coexist—teaches us that any given moment can be neither and both at the same time.

I think back to the fashion show I participated in as a representative for Donate Life after Emily passed away. I felt nervous and unsure of myself; it was something completely out of my comfort zone and never a situation I would have placed myself in under normal circumstances. But at the same time, I knew Emily would have said yes to such an honor if she had the chance, and I felt an undeniable pull to participate in her place.

My heart pounded with a mix of excitement and dread, and I couldn’t tell if I was exhilarated, terrified, or some strange combination of both. Yet, as I walked down the runway, something shifted in me.

I realized that this simple act was part of something much bigger. I wasn’t just modeling a piece of clothing—I was telling a story. I was sharing a story about a heart that first belonged to a man who died entirely too soon but, thanks to the selfless blessing of organ donation, became a “second-hand heart” to an incredible young woman who impacted my life in all the best possible ways.

That night was a bittersweet intersection of pain and purpose. And yet, it was transformative, reminding me that even in the depths of grief, there’s an opportunity to connect with others.

Each of these moments—whether joyful, painful, or somewhere in between—has shaped the person I am today. They are living proof that we truly grow through what we go through.

Turning Growth into Action

It’s one thing to talk about learning and growing through our experiences—it’s another to actually put those lessons into practice. Like anything else in life, I can’t transform overnight, nor can I wait around for the universe to make everything perfect. I’ve learned I must actively nudge myself forward, pushing through the pain and discomfort to find the beauty and joy on the other side.

For me, a lot of this growth has come through therapy and self-reflection.

Therapy has been life-changing. It’s given me a safe space to unpack trauma, gain clarity, and develop healthier coping strategies. I have worked hard to rewire my brain and break unhelpful thought patterns. I mastered distress tolerance and emotion regulation skills to help me channel my “big emotions.”

What’s more, I’ve leaned on close friends for support. Thanks to them, I’ve learned that vulnerability can build stronger connections. I discovered how to trust others (and myself). I’ve learned how to surrender and ask for help. Without my friends and the relationships we’ve developed, I don’t think I would have survived many of life’s curveballs—including losing the love of my life overnight or unexpectedly getting laid off.

And as you can probably guess, I have learned how to process my thoughts and feelings through writing. Although I do hope this blog helps others, the primary purpose of its creation was to cultivate a place where I can release all of the noise that fills my head daily. When I write, I experience a release. I see things more clearly, process things more completely, and unpack secrets that would otherwise haunt me.

Though there’s still much work to be done, I’m finding hope in these practices every single day.

My Journey Continues

Over the past two years, I’ve learned that healing isn’t a destination—it’s a lifelong journey filled with highs, lows, and unexpected turns. Each experience, whether it warms my heart or challenges me to my core, invites me to become a more authentic version of myself.

There are many days when my head fills with doubts, or I convince myself I’m not making any progress at all. In fact, there are days when my brain makes me believe I’m doing the opposite of growing—but the way I handled the prescription mishap and Emily’s mail are living proof that I am growing and learning.

I’m still a work in progress, but even on the worst of days, I continue to show up for myself. By putting these practices into action, I’m discovering that every challenge is an opportunity to learn more about who I am and what I’m capable of. And maybe most importantly, I’m realizing that the journey itself—the messy, complicated, beautiful process of becoming—is where true growth takes root.

Every stumble, heartbreak, and triumph reminds me that, indeed, we grow through what we go through.