I Chose to Live

I no longer believe in waiting for the right moment to live.

Life doesn’t pause until we feel ready, and courage rarely arrives fully formed. It shows up quietly, in ordinary decisions — to speak when it would be easier to stay silent, to step forward when certainty is missing, to choose growth over comfort.

For a long time, I thought living meant making things easier. Smoother. Safer. But that isn’t what makes a life meaningful. I want it to be worth it. Worth the fear. Worth the risk. Worth opening my heart and standing fully inside my choices. Because real life isn’t lived in the waiting. It’s lived in the choosing — in saying yes to the things that matter, even when they feel frightening, imperfect, or unfinished.

Losing my precious daughter changed the way I see everything. Life taught me, in the most profound and painful way, that nothing is guaranteed.

Loving her — even for the short time I was given — showed me just how precious and fragile life is. She taught me that every minute counts, and that nothing should ever be taken for granted. Not time. Not love. Not the chances we are offered.

I am endlessly grateful that I was given the chance to be her mother. That love is one of the greatest honours of my life. And while losing her broke my heart, knowing her reshaped my soul.

Since then, I have tried to live differently. More intentionally. More honestly. When opportunities come — whether in life or in work — I try not to dismiss them out of fear or familiarity.

Living, I’ve learned, isn’t about avoiding pain. It’s about being brave enough to stay open despite it. It’s about taking chances, even when the outcome is uncertain. It’s about choosing vulnerability, knowing that love can wound — and choosing it anyway.

The moments that have shaped me the most weren’t the safe ones. They were the moments when my voice shook but I spoke. When I opened my heart instead of protecting it. When I chose growth over comfort.

I want a life where I can say I showed up. That I loved fiercely. That I took the leap when it mattered. That I lived in a way that honoured both joy and loss — because both are part of being fully alive.

This is my promise to myself:

To make every minute count.

To take nothing for granted.

To take chances.

To stay vulnerable.

To live bravely and honestly.

Not perfectly.

Not without fear.

But fully.

And when I look back one day, I want to be able to say — with certainty and with love — that I truly lived.

Because living fully doesn’t mean being fearless.

It means recognising what matters — and choosing it anyway.