My mind and body have not betrayed me. They have done the only things in their power to slow me down and protect me from the unsustainable pressure I’ve placed on myself for most of my life. I know this is not everyone's experience with mental health struggles, but I think it is the experience of many, and this shift in mindset is my next big step in building back better for myself.

Sharing my struggles with you is not glamorous, nor is it easy, and the trembling that vibrates through my body on my worst days was hard at work as I typed this. For these reasons, I ask for your kindness, not just for me but for all those around you. But more importantly, I ask for your bravery. Your courage is critical in addressing the stigma of mental health.

After all, collaboration is what will make our small-town rural world continue to go ’round.

Rural communities are teeming with possibility. Sure, resources are often scarce and the naysayers can be loud, but the biggest factor in the vibrancy of any rural communities is the willingness of its members to dream and do.

There is so much more to our love story than I can fit into one post, but this will have to suffice for now. Loving Collin was the best decision I have ever made and being loved by him is more than I ever could have imagined. He gives me strength and makes me brave, and I sincerely hope that you have someone who does that for you, too.

Here in our rural communities, we deserve spaces we are not just welcome in; we deserve spaces we are worthy of.

I never had a desire to travel to big cities, to spend my time in a place where I wouldn’t know a single soul walking down the street. I knew right from the beginning that I wanted this life. I never had to realize that rural was the way for me.

Some people spend their whole lives searching for their other half. I can’t remember life without mine.

Parenthood is the most rewarding and exhausting, confusing and inspiring experience of my life, and the ferocity with which I swing between each of these things has been dizzying since before Josie Rue was born.

Who am I without that tiresome mantra, “what’s next?” reverberating through me? Will I stall or stale if I stop myself from striving for more and instead thrive where I’m at? I’m slowly learning that what’s next needn’t be an incessant call to action, an exhausting reach for some new thing in the name of success. Instead, I’m learning that what’s next is an energizing catapult for the now and the next not held back by obligation or shame, but instead thrust forward with the love for my community, my loved ones, and myself. And all that love is enough.

Growing up, I recall being told frequently that the older you get, the faster time flies. Assuming I was invincible and all-knowing, as most teenagers do, I never believed it. I’m twenty-six now, and the realization that my parents knew what they were talking about continues to shake me to the core.

The same issues that we face are copy-pasted across rural America. The things that set us apart have little to do with adversity.