The Rediscovery Pt. 1
Who Am I Without the Noise?
Merriam-Webster defines rediscovery as: to discover (something lost or forgotten) again.
That feels right.
But from a personal standpoint it’s more than a definition. It’s remembering what my original goals were.
Who I wanted to be.
How I wanted to show up in life.
It’s evaluating where I stand now and what blockades are present—and even asking myself if some of those original dreams still belong to the woman I’m becoming.
Because the truth is… I had big hopes for who I’d be.
A kind, generous, confident woman. A wife. A mom. Someone with a career that provided for her family. Someone people could count on. Someone seen as reliable, stable, normal, and put together. Those were the pillars I built my life around.
And while each of those traits still hold meaning, when broken down… some began to conflict with each other.
Who am I?
Katie. Wife. Mother. Daughter. Friend. Sister. Woman.
I have value—not because of my job title, my bank account, or even the size of my pants—but because God says so.
What’s important to me?
Family. My husband. My children. My people.
Time together. Whether traveling across the country or snuggling after dinner, it’s the shared moments that matter most.
So how do we create more of those?
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We were taught to “work hard, play hard.” Or in other words, put in the effort and reap the reward. But that’s not the real answer.
The real answer is: just do it.
For years, I poured myself into a thankless job, thinking that the more I gave, the more stable our life would be. I missed dinners, bedtimes, jump park visits, school events, family gatherings—things I swore I’d never miss. Moments I will never get back. All for a job that saw me as a number, a performance stat, a means to their profit.
And then they let me go.
Despite my all-in commitment. Despite sacrificing my health and presence. Despite proving over and over that I could carry the weight.
And oddly… I felt relief.
Suddenly, I could breathe again. I didn’t wake up with a weight on my chest. I had space to hug my kids a little tighter, listen to their hearts a little longer. I was present in a way I hadn’t been in years.
Ways I had always promised I would be.
And even though I kept thinking I should feel afraid—I didn’t.
Instead, I felt peace.
I’m no longer giving power to things I can’t control. I’m choosing to believe that when God closed that door, He did it for a reason. One I was too stubborn to see on my own.
We aren’t meant to live in toxicity. We aren’t meant to suffocate in stress. We aren’t meant to miss our own lives.
Because life really is too short.
Someone I deeply respect once told me to hold on to my blue chips—the things of highest value in life. In the stock market, blue-chip stocks are known for stability, strength, and consistent growth. They’re a foundation to a successful and well-managed portfolio.
In life?
He said blue chips are:
God
Health
Family
God is the foundation to life.
Without health, you can’t show up for your family.
And family? That’s everything.
The job, the car, the house, the vacations, the new clothes? They’re not the core.
Let it go.
Refocus. Realign. Rediscover.
Because since losing my job, I’ve felt the fog lift. I’m moving back inside with my family instead of watching through the window. I’m no longer surviving.
I’m living.
I’m not here to please everyone else. I’m here to be me: a devoted wife, mama of wild things, a nurturer, a giver of love, a woman with purpose.
And I don’t need a title or a paycheck to prove that.
What I’m reclaiming now: time, joy, routine, faith, love, compassion, health, purpose.
I don’t know exactly what’s next.
But I know this is the beginning of something beautiful.