Forty-eight days ago, I created JustRealTea.com. At first, it was just a space to get the words out of my head—an online journal, a place to scribble without expectation. It wasn’t meant for anyone but me, a record of my thoughts, struggles, and triumphs. So I intend to keep this specific page the journal I intended it to be, even though people have started reading.
In the last 48 days, life has thrown numerous lessons at me...again.
I did apply for university, a fresh start, a new direction—something that felt impossible a year ago when I was drowning in survival mode. It’s terrifying to take a leap like this, but I refuse to let fear hold me back. I refuse to settle for less than I deserve.
I'm enduring another winter in the bush, alone with my boys, shoveling our way through countless storms, keeping our world running despite the ice, the cold, and the exhaustion. When the snow piles up, we dig. When the temperatures drop, I brace myself and keep the fire burning. When the silence of the trees feels heavy, I remind myself that solitude does not mean loneliness—it means strength.
Did I mention that Kid 2 was injured in a skiing accident mid January? Laid up with a knee injury for a couple weeks, and trust me, no pain cuts deeper than watching your kid suffer while feeling powerless to fix it.
Then there's my car, that decided to add to the chaos with its own set of problems, making every errand a battle. And the electrical issues that turned my home into a test of patience and problem-solving. Needless to say stress pressed in, reminding me that independence is both empowering and exhausting.
And then, there were the wounds no one sees. My pride took its hits. I faced disappointments that stung like betrayal. I lost people I thought would be there, forcing me to relearn lessons I hoped I’d never have to revisit.
Yet, in the midst of it all, something incredible happened. A single post—just me sharing my truth—hit 33,000+ views on my Threads account. A thousand new people followed, not because I was chasing popularity, but because my words meant something to them. My scribbles, my unfiltered thoughts, my raw experiences—they mattered. And that realization is still sinking in.
I never set out to build an audience, but knowing that my voice resonates, that my story is being heard, is humbling. This space started as something just for me, but now, it’s becoming something more. A place to document, to reflect, to share. And I intend to keep journaling here—not for the numbers, not for validation, but because this is my space, my journey, my truth.
I’m not writing for attention. I never have. But knowing that my words are resonating, that my experiences are being felt by others—that’s humbling. And it’s motivating. Because this isn’t just about me anymore. It’s about the stories we share, the voices we lift, and the truths we refuse to keep buried.
I've been through hell the last few years, and let's face it, life's hard. Some days feel impossible. But I’m doing it—with the love of my family, the kindness of friends and neighbors, and a whole lot of tenacity and sheer will.
So here's to forty-eight days of storms, setbacks, and survival. Forty-eight days of growth, resilience, and strength.
And I’m just getting started.
****Mindless Babble complete! 😉
🫶🫂🫖 𝒥ℛ𝒯
🎨ArtCredit: Raven Shaolin Bluefeather
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