“You do not identify as your health issues.”
I can’t count how many times I’ve told myself that.
I’ve written it in my journal.
Said it in the mirror.
Spoken it out loud to other people, as if saying it enough times might make it true.
I was more than the issues that seemed to consume my existence.
More than the things that affected every single sector of my life.
At least, that’s what I tried to believe.
For most of my life, I’ve been fighting my health. One thing after another. Over and over again.
It started way before I can remember. Now, at twenty-seven, the battle hasn’t eased — it’s intensified.
My relationships.
My work.
My everyday life.
Somehow, one way or another, they all feel determined by my health.
“Health is wealth.”
It’s said so often it almost sounds hollow, but it might be the truest statement of our fleeting human existence.
Of course, there are exceptions. People who, despite their health issues, find a way to make life work for them. And I kid you not; those are the people I envy most. Not out of bitterness, but awe. I try to study them, to crack the code of how they do it.
But this past year — a year marked by consistent hospital visits and the inability to keep up with the life I’m trying to create — has derailed me in ways I still don’t have the language for.
The culmination of it all landed me in the hospital on my twenty-seventh birthday.
In the very month I was trying to make my final big push — to close 2025 well and set a tone for 2026 that would propel me into the success I crave.
And the truth is, one of my biggest reasons for chasing success the way I do has always been my health.
I want to be able to care for it properly.
I want to live one full year feeling well (as well as someone with my conditions can be).
I genuinely believe one year of health would feel like a greater accomplishment than anything else. Of course, I want it to last far beyond a year. But I want to start there. One year. Then keep going.
My 100k December goal was never just about money. Cause I want the money duh 🥲
It was about ease.
About breathing.
About having the space to take care of myself without everything feeling like a fight.
In 2026, I need this battle for good health won.
I need to be able to breathe.
I’m no longer interested in surviving my own life. I want to live it without constant negotiation with my body.
2026 isn’t about proving anything to anyone — it’s about choosing myself, consistently, without apology.
I don’t want a bigger life.
I want a lighter one.
And I’m choosing to fight for that.
A girl, probably. 