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I Don't Know My Purpose Yet, and That's Okay

By The Artful Woman
I Don't Know My Purpose Yet, and That's Okay For months, my only job was to survive. Survive the surgeries. Survive the pain. Survive learning how to live in a body that no longer looked or functioned the way it once did. There wasn't much room for anything else. But lately, something has changed. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm getting my mind back. I'm reading again. Taking courses. Asking questions. Thinking deeply. Exploring ideas that once seemed out of reach because all my energy was spent simply making it through another day. And one question keeps coming back to me: Given that this happened, what do I want to become because of it? I'm not looking for a perfect answer. I'm not trying to convince myself that losing my leg was somehow easy or that all suffering has a neat explanation. My body still hurts every day. I have broken bones held together with metal. My scars ache. Recovery is exhausting. But I refuse to let my mind rot or m...
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Rebuilding Strength When Nothing Moves Fast Enough

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By The Artful Woman

I made it to the gym Saturday.

And Monday.
And today.

If all goes well, I’ll go again Friday.

It doesn’t sound like much. For some people it’s just routine. For me, it’s everything.

Life is still chaotic. Today my workout got cut short because my caretaker had to rush to urgent care — teenage drama, a fight at school, one of those moments that reminds you the world doesn’t pause just because you’re trying to heal.

Nothing in my life is moving quickly right now.

Insurance is slow.
Legal processes are slow.
Disability is slow.
Every step requires another referral, another form, another phone call.

It feels like living inside a system that runs on “eventually.”

Meanwhile, my body is still catching up to trauma.

Nerves that were cut.
Areas that are numb.
Pain that lingers.
A limb that’s gone.
Metal holding things together.

Some days I feel like a collection of repairs.

And yet — the gym is the one place I don’t feel broken.

It hurts to train. I’m tired. My body protests.

But when I move, I remember something important:

Strength is safety.

Every pound I lift is a small rebellion against dependence.
Every workout is proof that I am not done.
Every drop of sweat says, “I am still here.”

Nothing in this process is overnight. Not the lawsuits. Not the benefits. Not the nerve regeneration. Not the healing.

So I build what I can control.

Muscle.
Endurance.
Stability.
Hope.

I don’t train because it’s easy.
I train because giving up would cost me more.

This is slow rebuilding.
This is deliberate.
This is me refusing to disappear inside what happened.

And I’m not finished.

Not even close.

If my story resonates with you and you’d like to support my recovery journey, medical expenses, and fight to rebuild my independence after trauma, my GoFundMe link is in my bio. Every donation, share, and kind word genuinely helps me keep going — physically, emotionally, and financially. Thank you for being part of my healing journey.

https://gofund.me/c51bde360



#GoFundMe #GoFundMeJourney #GoFundMeSupport #MedicalFundraiser #SupportRecovery #RecoveryJourney #TraumaRecovery #HealingAfterTrauma #DisabilitySupport #HopeAndHealing #RebuildingMyLife #FightForRecovery #StrengthThroughStruggle #AdaptiveFitness #ChronicPainWarrior #SurvivorStrong #CommunitySupport #HealingJourney #OneStepAtATime #NeverGiveUp

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Location: Lake Elsinore, CA, USA

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