This may be hard to believe, but I can actually remember being on the playground in elementary school thinking about what my life would look like.

I was going to live in a huge house.

Have a beautiful wife.

A bunch of kids.

Six-pack abs.

And I was going to be happy… all the time.

Sometimes, when I get caught in a self-loathing spiral, I think back to that little boy.

And I wonder what he would think if he got a glimpse of the man I actually became.

Thankfully, I’ve gotten better at fending off those spirals.

But the thoughts still come.

So what does my life actually look like now?

It’s safe to say I thought I’d be further along.

More established.

More… figured out.

Instead, I’m divorced.

I have two kids—Jack (12) and Anna (6)—that I love more than anything, but I don’t get to see them every day.

And I’m trying to rebuild a life that, at one point, felt like it was on a completely different track.

Especially when I think back to being a 22-year-old, married, graduating summa cum laude from a pretty good university… I really thought I had it figured out.

Somewhere along the way, I feel like I developed a cold, hard exterior.

Sometimes I worry I’ve lost the person I used to be.

I used to be the “life of the party” type.

Now, it almost feels like if I come across as unfriendly, it just makes things easier.

In my friend group, I was always seen as “the successful one.”

And I took a lot of pride in that.

I worked hard. Made sacrifices. Did everything I thought I was supposed to do.

And now… sometimes it feels like it was all for nothing.

MS has made everything more complicated.

I feel like I have a limited bucket of energy each day.

So I have to be intentional with how I spend it.

Strategic.

I’ve tried a few times over the past couple of years to get back into nursing.

But I haven’t been able to.

I simply can’t do what I used to do.

Standing for long periods causes significant leg pain and numbness—and when that happens, my mind gets foggy too.

Stress makes everything worse.

And if you weren’t aware… nursing can be very stressful.

I remember one time in the ER, the nurses were messing around and checking each other’s blood pressure.

I volunteered.

It read 180/110.

I quickly ripped the cuff off and turned off the machine so nobody else would see.

The worst part?

That was before my 12-hour shift even started.

On the surface, I was always calm.

Relaxed. Steady.

But underneath, I was like a duck on water.

Everything looks smooth above the surface—but underneath, the legs are going a mile a minute.

MS is a degenerative disease.

Things don’t really get better—they either stay the same for a while, or eventually get worse.

Because of that, managing stress has become my top priority.

And the reality is… I don’t think I’ll ever go back to nursing.

On paper, I know how all of this sounds.

And I’d be lying if I said I haven’t struggled with that.

There are a lot of moments where I think about how this looks from the outside.

What people might assume.

Where I “should” be by now.

Those thoughts creep in more than I’d like to admit.

But that’s only part of the story.

Because there’s another side to this that people don’t really see.

I wake up every day with a purpose.

It’s not some huge, life-changing mission.

It’s simple.

Hit my nutrition targets.

Get my steps in.

Go to the gym.

Be present when I’m with Jack and Anna.

Try to be a little better than I was yesterday.

That’s it.

And honestly… that structure has become everything.

The gym isn’t just about lifting weights anymore.

It’s where I go to prove to myself that I can still show up.

Even when I don’t feel like it.

Even when I’m tired.

Even when my mind starts going in the wrong direction.

There’s something about finishing a workout, pulling my sleeves up, and seeing the progress—even if it’s small.

It reminds me that I’m not stuck.

The same goes for everything else.

Saving a little money when I can.

Trying to build something with this blog.

Figuring out what the next version of my life is supposed to look like.

None of it is flashy.

Most of it probably wouldn’t look impressive to anyone else.

But it matters to me.

Because the truth is…

I’m starting over.

Not completely from scratch—but close enough.

And that’s a strange place to be.

There’s uncertainty.

There’s frustration.

There are days where it feels like I’m behind.

But there’s also something else.

There’s opportunity.

A chance to build things differently this time.

More intentionally.

More honestly.

I don’t have everything figured out.

Not even close.

But I’m showing up.

I’m putting one foot in front of the other.

And for right now…

that’s enough.