unapologeticallyme

My Gold Medal Acceptance Speech for Healing on My Own Terms

Wow… I don’t even know where to start. I never thought I’d be standing here—because truthfully, for most of my life, I didn’t believe I’d make it this far, nor did I even want to.

I never had the fan club, the cheering section, or the supportive coach in my corner.

I trained for this moment in silence, in grief, in darkness, in pain.

In all these emotions, I shattered, learning the true path to lasting healing is rebuilding all those pieces on your own, no matter they fit

I didn’t win this medal for being the strongest.

I won it for refusing to stay broken.

A beautiful mosaic now captivates where only glass stood before.

I was told I couldn’t make good decisions. That I’d never get better. That I needed to be managed, not trusted.

Learned how to finally trust myself—and that was the most radical thing I’ve ever done.

I chose to fight.

I chose Spravato.

I chose truth.

I chose me.

Even when the world said I was too much, too messy, too emotional—I said, “Okay… then I’ll be all of that and still rise.”

To the people who watched me drown and called it drama: I release you.

To the ones who loved the version of me that stayed small: She doesn't exist anymore.

To the ones who tried to ship me off, silence me, or shame me into submission: that shit ends now and if you can't support me, get the hell off my bus.

This medal is for the woman who almost didn’t make it, more times than seems believably possible

Who sat weeping and praying for a crucial reset to her brain - and she got it.

Who now sleeps through treatments not in fear, but in peace.

Who bought her own damn cake and no longer apologizes for being one of a kind.

This is my moment.

And I accept it because I’m finally healing on my own terms.

Thank you… to the fire.

Thank you… to the silence that made me scream.

Thank you… to the little girl inside who never stopped hoping that one day she’d be the one holding the mic.

Well baby—here I am.

I made it.

And I did it my way. 🎂🥇
#MightyTogether
#HealingOnMyOwnTerms
#RebuiltNotBroken
#SheChoseHerself #MentalHealthVictory #ResilienceLooksLikeThis #SurvivorEnergy #MosaicNotShattered
#unapologeticallyme
#WatchMeRise
#NewYearNewMeEnergy
#chapter52
#SpravatoJourney
#BrainReset
#SuicideSurvivor
#KetamineTherapyWorks
#mentalhealthmatters

This morning, on my way to work, I got pulled over.

No flashing. No racing. Just a regular morning.

I wasn’t speeding—at least not to my knowledge. I wasn’t weaving or driving erratically. I was just... existing.

When I calmly asked the officer why I was being pulled over, he looked at me and said coldly, “I’ll tell you after you give me your license and registration.”

No explanation. No decency. Just power.

And in that moment, my anger bubbled up—not because I feared a ticket, but because I felt what this really was.

So I asked, “Are you just checking if I have the little star on my license?”

That star.

The Real ID star.

The one that says, “Yes, officer, I belong here.”

Because in 2025 America, apparently our right to drive, exist, or move freely now comes with a symbol.

He snapped back: “What did you say?”

His tone was sharp. Threatening. Like I had just triggered something in him.

And in that split second, I felt the danger of my words.

So I swallowed my rage.

I said nothing.

I looked for my documents.

Because even though I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, I knew exactly what could happen if I kept speaking.

He came back a few minutes later and suddenly—miraculously—I had been speeding. No radar mentioned. No explanation. Just a convenient excuse and a verbal warning.

This wasn’t a routine traffic stop.

This was a fishing expedition.

A “let’s see what I can find out about her” moment.

And it was terrifying.

I can’t stop thinking about how many people—immigrants, people of color, women, anyone who “looks like they don’t belong”—are having encounters like this every single day. How many are being silenced, humiliated, or threatened just for existing behind the wheel. How often “protect and serve” turns into “profile and provoke.”

I’m still angry.

But more than that—I’m afraid.

Afraid of how normalized this is becoming.

Afraid of how easily I could’ve been written off, arrested, or worse if I hadn’t chosen silence in that moment.

These are dangerous times in the United States—especially for immigrants of color.

And if we don’t speak up, if we don’t tell our stories, they get to write the narrative.

Not today.#MyStoryMatters #immigrantvoices #thisisameri #thisisamericatoo #unapologeticallyme #everydayresistance #speaktruth #powerinstorytelling #webelong #IAmNotAlone