Seaworthy

For weeks I’ve written about the sea—its waves, its storms, its unexpected tides. But somewhere between the choppy waters and the slow tsunami, I realized I’d been asking the wrong question. I kept wondering when the sea would finally calm.

A seasoned sailor doesn’t wait for that.

Eventually, she stops scanning the horizon and begins trusting the vessel beneath her feet. And in that shift, she discovers something unexpected:

she has become seaworthy.

My path forward began in the wreckage of a painful experience. Loved ones were hurt.  Mistakes were made.  I found myself sailing through a storm I never would have chosen.  But that storm led me to the woman I’m becoming.

This transformation isn’t for others.

It’s for me — and for the future happiness I intend to protect.

I’m determined to live it consistently.

Without an audience.

Especially when life becomes comfortable again.

I’ll carry this experience in my soul as a reminder of the version of myself I never want to return to.

A seasoned sailor doesn’t trust her ship because it’s indestructible. She trusts it because she knows:

It will creak,

It will be battered,

It will require maintenance,

It may even take on water,

…and yet it is still capable of carrying her safely through the storm.

Perfection is unreachable.

Confidence isn’t trusting the weather — it’s trusting the person at the helm.

This trust will be gradual. It will be challenging. It will take perseverance.

The wolves will return. They'll insist neither I nor my ship are seaworthy. I've learned they aren't navigators. They're only echoes.

But my growth has taught me to trust the woman I’m becoming — to navigate those days differently.

The sea hasn’t become calmer.

The ship has become seaworthy.