After three years of hesitation, life’s unexpected detours, and the fear of the unknown, I finally did it—I applied for university.
This isn’t the program I originally envisioned when I graduated years ago, but I truly believe this is where I need to be. I’ve applied for the Bachelor of Arts in Public Administration and Governance, a program designed for current and future leaders in First Nations communities, Indigenous agencies, and organizations. This program is about building strong leadership and management skills while supporting economic and political sovereignty for our communities. It’s the kind of work that can create real, lasting impact—not just for me, but for those who need strong, dedicated advocates.
When I submitted that application yesterday, I felt powerful. Proud. Like I was finally stepping into the life I’ve been afraid to claim for myself.
And then, today, the fear crept in.
Overwhelmed. Scared. Insecure. Riddled with self-doubt.
Do I really have it in me to complete a five-year program? After skipping past every educational opportunity for three years, why now? Am I really going to attempt to be a university student in my 50s?
I thanked the Universe and my angels for guiding me here, for the way things have been shifting in my favor, but the truth is, there are a few of them I desperately wish I could share this with. The last time I started school, I had their unwavering support—their encouragement, their pep talks, their belief in me when I struggled to believe in myself. But they’re gone now. Stolen from me. Stolen from this world. And today, as I face one of the biggest challenges I’ve ever chosen, I feel the weight of their absence.
I miss them.
But even in this grief, I know I am not alone. I have incredible people in my life—friends, family, and connections I’ve forged through some of my darkest days. People who have stood by me, who have lifted me up when I couldn’t do it myself. And for them, I am endlessly grateful.
Still, today, reality has set in. Fear has settled in my chest, whispering doubts in my ear. But I refuse to let it take my power away.
This is real now.
I’m stepping forward on my own, as a single parent, as someone who has spent years trying to rewrite their story. Change is terrifying, and doubt is loud, but I’ve already leapt—head first, eyes closed. And I will not let fear convince me I’m not capable. Because I am.
I took this step because I want more for myself. Because I refuse to let my past define me. Because I am stronger than I give myself credit for.
Fear doesn’t mean I’m on the wrong path. It means I’m doing something that matters. Something that pushes me beyond the version of myself I was ready to leave behind.
So here I am. Scared. Uncertain. Grieving. But still moving forward. Because I have to. Because I want to. Because this is for me.
And I will not let fear take that away.
🫰❣️🫖 JRT
🎨: Raven Shaolin Bluefeather
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This post hit me right in the heart. Your journey, your fears, your determination—it’s all so raw and real, and I just want to say how incredibly proud I am of you. Stepping into something unknown, especially after years of hesitation and loss, takes immense strength, and you’re proving that strength with every step forward.
I know the weight of grief and how heavy it can be when the people we once leaned on are no longer here. But I also know that if they could see you now, they’d be cheering you on, just like so many of us are. You are not alone in this, and you are more than capable of seeing this through.
Fear may whisper doubts, but your courage is louder. You are rewriting your story on your own terms, and that is something truly powerful. Keep going—you’ve got this. And no matter what, you are already making an impact just by choosing to step forward. 💜