Have you ever felt that quiet voice in your head, the kind that whispers, “It’s time to start over”? At 45, I felt it stronger than ever. Life in New Jersey was comfortable in a lot of ways, but deep down, I knew I was ready for a change. My private practice as a mental health counselor was thriving, but it was the only part of my life that really felt good. But everything else? It felt like I was just going through the motions. After the end of long term relationship and years of feeling stuck, I packed up my life, loaded my two dogs and two cats into my car, filled every inch with whatever would fit, and started driving south. Florida wasn’t just a new address, it was a chance at a new beginning.
Leaving New Jersey Behind
The decision to leave New Jersey wasn’t an easy one. It was the only place I’d ever called home.
But sometimes, starting over begins with surrendering to what no longer fits.
So, in late October 2024, with my car packed to the brim and my pets as my travel companions, I made the long drive to Florida. It was equally scary and freeing at the same time. I felt like I was shedding layers as each mile passed. The drive was long and exhausting, but there was something freeing about it too. I wasn’t running away. I was finally running toward something.
Moving Closer to Family
One of the reasons I chose Florida was to be closer to my mom, who had lived there for about the last 12 years. When I arrived, she was relatively healthy, and I was excited to live closer to her after years of living so far apart. I used to see her only about once a year when I would travel to Florida for Christmas. I imagined Sunday dinners and shopping trips together. But, unfortunately, life had other plans.
In early December, just weeks after I’d moved there, my mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. Everything changed overnight. My nights became filled with taking care of her and sitting by her side. By March 2025, she was gone.
Grief is strange. It sneaks up on you in quiet moments and roars loudly in unexpected ones. During those months, I was working full-time in my private practice by day and caring for my mom by night. I didn’t have time for exercise or even a decent night’s sleep. There was little room for self-care. I was in survival mode, just trying to get through each day in one piece.
The Pause Before the Reset
After losing my mom, the stillness was loud. I felt hollow. Florida didn’t feel like a fresh start anymore. It just felt like grief and loss.
For weeks, I drifted along. But little by little, something began to shift for me. It came in small moments: the way the wind sounded blowing through the trees, the colors of the sky just before sunset.
There was still a spark inside me, buried somewhere beneath all of the grief and exhaustion. I had come to Florida seeking a reset. I hadn’t expected it to begin this way, but I still wanted to find my way back to myself.
Finding Paddle Boarding — and Myself
In July 2025, I tried paddle boarding for the first time. I wasn’t sure what I was really looking for. A distraction? A hobby? Something to break the monotony? Maybe I’d fall off instantly, maybe I wouldn’t even like it at all.
But when I stood on the board, feeling the sun on my face and the water beneath me, something clicked. For the first time in months, I felt present. Steady. Alive. Balanced. Peaceful.
That moment changed everything.
Paddle boarding became more than just an activity or a hobby. It became therapy. It became medicine. Out on the water, I found the stillness I had been craving. Grief and stress didn’t disappear, but they loosened their grip. For that hour, I felt like I could breathe again.
And I remembered something I had forgotten: even in the middle of heartbreak, it’s still okay to carve out space for yourself. In fact, it’s essential.
Why I’m Writing This Blog
So, why am I sharing all this? Because I know I’m not the only one who’s had to start over. I know what it feels like to carry the weight of responsibility, grief, and burnout all at once. And I know how lonely that can be. And I know I’m not the only one searching for ways to reset, to heal, and to find joy again.
This blog will be my space to share:
🌿 Practical self-care and wellness tools that actually fit into real life
🌊 Stories from the water — how paddle boarding and nature became my unexpected therapy
💙 Honest reflections on resilience, grief, and rebuilding in midlife
I’m not offering a blueprint or promising perfection. What I am offering is the real, raw, messy, hopeful version of what starting over has looked like for me in the hopes that it can help you too.
An Invitation to You
Maybe you’re not moving across states or grieving the death of a parent, but maybe you feel that tug in your heart too. The quiet nudge telling you it’s time for a change. Maybe you’ve been showing up for everyone else and losing sight of yourself along the way.
If that sounds familiar, I want you to know something important: you are not alone. And it is never too late to start again.
This space is for both of us. It’s a place to remember that peace is still possible, joy still matters, and small steps can lead to big healing.
If I can rebuild my life at 45, after loss and upheaval, then so can you.
What’s Next
Thank you for being here for my very first post. Truly. 💌
Here’s to fresh starts, steady healing, and finding beauty in the in-between.
And keep an eye out for my next post: “5 Simple Mindfulness Practices You Can Do in 5 Minutes.” It’s full of the exact tools that helped me move forward.
If you’re ready to take your own gentle first step, I’d love to invite you to subscribe to my newsletter. You will receive a free download of my 5-Day Self-Care Reset Plan. It’s a simple way to start making space for yourself again, in just five minutes a day.
Feel free to visit my Etsy shop for resources to help you on your journey. I also have a free private self-care interactive Facebook group for women that you can join here.
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