Lately, I’ve been reflecting on my life and the experiences that have shaped me into who I am today. It’s been a wild ride. Right now, I’m a 34-year-old business owner with a birthday just around the corner. As I approach 35, I find myself thinking a lot about the person I’ve been, and the person I still want to become.

And isn’t that the beauty of life? That we get to choose. We get to evolve, shift, grow—and become someone we’re proud of. To me, there’s no greater privilege than the freedom to decide who you want to be.

When I look back, there are versions of myself I barely recognize. I see old pictures and think—wow, I’ve come a long way. I’ve gone from an insecure girl trying to find her place in the world, to someone who shows up every day with both strength and heart.

So, what have the past (almost) 35 years taught me about myself?

As I reflect, I find it’s important to name not just who I am, but also who I am not—and to honor the reasons behind both.

So, here are 10 things I’ve learned about myself—starting from where I stand today, and tracing the steps that brought me here.

I’m not great at birthdays, gifts or grand gestures.

I’m probably not going to remember your birthday—and I don’t expect you to remember mine. The same goes for gifts. I’m not great at giving them, and I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to get me anything.

That likely stems from my childhood. Birthdays weren’t really celebrated. Holidays were quiet—if acknowledged at all. We were grateful just to have a roof over our heads and food on the table. A “good” day was one where my parents weren’t screaming at each other. We didn’t ask for much, because we knew the answer would be no. When you grow up poor, you learn not to want things. You learn early that what you hope for isn’t usually within reach.

As an adult, I tried to rewrite that narrative. I took on the role of “memory-maker” in my family. I went all out for holidays, bought gifts I thought they’d love, tried to create the moments I never had. But those efforts were often met with indifference. The connection I was hoping to build never really took root. After over a decade of pouring in time, energy, and heart only to feel disappointed and unseen, I began to understand: for some people, those gestures just don’t matter in the way they mattered to me.

Sure, it’s a beautiful thing to give a gift to someone who genuinely appreciates it. But in my experience, that kind of appreciation has been rare. And over time, I realized that I was hurt. Repeatedly. And that pain shaped how I now show up when it comes to birthdays, holidays, and grand gestures.

I don’t like that about myself, not entirely. In another life, maybe I would’ve been the hostess with the most-est—the one who hand-bakes for days during the holidays and delights in finding the perfect gift. Maybe I would’ve felt deeply appreciated through those acts of love. But that’s not the story I’ve lived.

In this life, I’ve learned that what means most to me has nothing to do with material things. I’d rather offer someone my presence. My time. A safe place to land. I’d rather listen when no one else will. I’d rather show up when no one else does. To me, that kind of love matters more than any gift ever could.

I express love differently.

I’m not overly affectionate—but that doesn’t mean I’m not loving. I’ll welcome a hug, but I also value personal space—yours and mine. I know the way I show love might look different to some people, and I’ve often been misunderstood because of it.

What most people don’t realize is that I was never taught how to love. I was taught how to survive. And for a long time, I didn’t love myself. And if you don’t love yourself, how are you supposed to truly love anyone else?

That lack of self-love made it hard for me to open up to others. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t love—I did, and I still do. I just don’t always know how to show it.

It’s taken me almost 35 years to get to a place where I can say, honestly, that I love who I am. Today, I see myself as loyal, fearless, strong as hell, gentle, logical, consistent, motivated, and independent. I’m trying every day to become the kind of person I dreamed of being when I was a little girl—the kind of woman she’d be proud of.

My love might not come with a lot of emotion or over-the-top affection. But it’s real. It’s steady. It’s loyal. I’m not interested in shallow relationships or superficial connection. I want the real thing. I want love that’s mutual, not one-sided. If I can love someone fully—including their flaws and fears—I ask for the same in return.

I’m not overly emotional, and I don’t express love through grand displays of affection—unless you’re my fiancé. He gets the most tender, affectionate parts of me, even when I sometimes wonder if it’s enough. But he loves me—for everything I am, and everything I’m not. And that’s all I’ve ever really wanted—to be loved in that kind of way. And it’s the kind of love I try to give in return.

I’m Not a “Check-In Every Week” Friend

You won’t hear from me every time you have a major life event—and I don’t expect that in return. I believe in mutual understanding without obligation. Life has taught me that the people who are meant to stay will, and those who aren’t will naturally drift away.

There have been seasons where I shared incredible moments with amazing people. But then someone gets married, has a baby, changes jobs, or moves away—and suddenly, the friendship fades, sometimes almost overnight. It makes you wonder: were they just a seasonal friend?

And then, there are the rare few who walk with you through every pit, fire, and tulip field. The ones who, despite every excuse or distance, always find a way to stay connected. In my lifetime, I’ve only found one person like that.

Sometimes I go weeks or even months without talking to my closest friend—but when we reconnect, it’s like no time has passed. She’s never been upset that I missed a birthday call. She just gets me. And I get her. That’s the kind of friendship I’m looking for—rare, real, and effortless. And when I meet someone new who feels like that, I can’t help but wonder: Could it be? Another person who just might get me?

I live in my head—creatively and literally.

My mind is always working. I’m a creator through and through, and sometimes that means I zone out. It’s not personal—just gently reel me back in. I’ve learned that I feel my best when my mind is free to wander. I’m not always sure what’s going on up there, but here’s how it works: I can be knee-deep in one thought, then—bam—something new pops up. Instantly, I drop the first thought and follow the new one. That’s what happens when I let my mind roam—and honestly, it’s one of my favorite things about myself. This creative thinking has lead to my greatest accomplishments.

I’m also a literal thinker. If you’re being sarcastic or joking, you might need to give me a heads-up—I’m not a mind reader. My friends and family have learned this the hard way. They’ll make a sarcastic comment, and I’ll respond completely seriously, and they’re left saying, “Never mind.” When you think literally, you see things at face value. That doesn’t mean I can’t see another perspective—it just means my literal brain got there first. But I’ve learned to adjust. Thanks to my sarcastic fiancé and stepkids, I’ve picked up on the nuance. I’ve even started picking up on things like, when someone says, “She’s not even that bald,” what they really mean is… she’s totally bald.

Listening fuels me more than talking.

I’d rather hear your story than tell mine. Not because I don’t have one, but because I find connection listening to others. I’ve always been like a sponge. As a kid, I was quiet, soaking up everything around me. I’d listen intently to conversations, trying to understand the topics being discussed. As I got older, I learned to open up—thanks to the restaurant business. It pushes you to communicate, think on your feet, and navigate conversations, even with people you’d rather avoid. It taught me to value those who show respect and gratitude. Through listening, I’ve discovered some of my most valuable life lessons.

I’m wired for logic but driven by intuition.

I lean on reason, but I also trust my powerful gut instinct. If something feels off, I listen to that. I often feel like a beautiful contradiction. Many people are either driven by logic and facts or guided by intuition and feelings. I’m a blend of both. This gives me the ability to see all angles, to understand different perspectives and how someone arrived at their conclusions. While I might not show a lot of emotion, I can make decisions that balance both facts and feelings. This has been a superpower of mine when leading a team. With a small group, I’ve learned to listen to all sides, identify the issue, and implement a solution. It also helps me in my daily life on setting goals, and changing direction when it feels right.

I let go quickly.

I don’t have time for drama, negativity, or pettiness. I move on quickly, and I don’t hold grudges—because my peace matters more.

At some point, you have to ask yourself if holding onto pain is really worth what it costs you. I’ve had plenty of reasons to stay bitter—childhood trauma, broken relationships, and being burned more times than I can count while building my real estate business. Looking back, I’m honestly shocked by some of the things I’ve endured—stories I hope to have the courage to share one day. But here’s what I’ve learned: people mess up. I mess up. Forgiving doesn’t free them—it frees you.

That doesn’t mean I reengage with people who’ve hurt me. It just means I choose not to let their actions take up space in my heart. I let go, learn from the experience, and move forward with peace.

Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It means choosing yourself over the weight of what someone else did.

I’m constantly evolving.

Self-growth is what drives me. I push my limits daily—not because it’s easy, but because it’s worth it. Burnout happens, sure, but I wouldn’t trade the growth for anything.

I’ve always had a deep desire to become better every day. Staying stagnant—or worse, slipping back into old patterns—has never been an option for me. I believe evolution is inevitable. The world keeps moving forward, so why would I choose to stay stuck?

That said, I also recognize that healing takes time. There are seasons in life when you need to slow down, process, and just be. I’m a firm believer in giving yourself the grace to do that.

What helps me most is viewing each day as a fresh opportunity. A chance to make one small shift—even a micro-change—that moves me closer to the person I want to be.

Over the past 35 years, I’ve lived through so many versions of myself—some I hardly recognize. And honestly, that’s the goal. I want to look back one day and say, I never gave up. I never stopped growing.

I follow through.

If I say I’m going to do something, I will. My follow-through—both in life and business—is something people consistently recognize and admire. I take my word seriously. If I commit to something, I show up and follow through, even when it’s uncomfortable or inconvenient. Honestly, I credit that one simple trait as a key reason I’ve found success.

But here’s what I had to learn the hard way: I can’t say yes to everything.

Learning to say no has been one of the most freeing things I’ve ever done. Saying no isn’t a broken promise—it’s setting a boundary.

Ah, boundaries. I could talk about them for days. I didn’t always have them. I used to be a full-blown people-pleaser—eager to be liked, quick to help however I could. But over time, I realized that not every request was a need. Some people simply wanted me to do things they were fully capable of doing themselves.

It’s taken real work to recognize those situations and respond with a respectful, confident no.

That said, when I say yes, I mean it. No matter how hard it gets, no matter what obstacles come up—I’ll figure it out. I don’t back out. If I give my word, I keep it.

I live boldly.

My life hasn’t been easy—it’s been traumatic, complicated, and often misunderstood. But it’s also been enlightening, beautiful, and brave. I take risks. I chase what I want. And I hold myself—and anyone I allow into my world—to incredibly high standards. I’ll never ask anything of someone that I wouldn’t do myself.

Through every challenge and triumph, there’s always been one thing I’ve known deep down: I’m protected by a higher power. I know it. I feel it. And because of that, I have no doubt—I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

This belief fuels everything in me. I want to see what I’m truly capable of. I don’t want to live a small or scared life. I want to take bold risks, try things that scare me, and experience everything this short, precious life has to offer.

Living boldly, to me, means doing things that even shock myself. When I get an idea, I don’t just think about it—I act on it.

I’ve done incredible things. I’ve seen breathtaking places. Against all odds, I bet on myself—and I continue to. Because I know that even if I have no one else in my corner, I’m capable of anything I set my mind to. I go after what I want—because life is far too short to live any other way.