Two Years of Living: From Surviving to Thriving

Introduction

Hey friends! I just got back from a spring break cruise with my best friend, and it was the perfect opportunity to reflect on the past two years of my mental health journey. Fair warning; this is going to be a deeply personal piece. I want to be vulnerable because it's worth it if sharing my story helps even one person through a dark time. Lying on the beach in the Bahamas, I had a powerful realization: it has been two years since I wanted to end my life. Two years of pure joy that I wouldn’t have experienced if I had stayed silent any longer or kept surrounding myself with people who weren’t good for me. For the first time, I’ve genuinely come to terms with my story, and I’m ready to share it, because I am so proud of how far I’ve come. That chapter of my life was dark, but I now understand it was essential to my journey. It shaped me into the firm, resilient woman I am today. I’m finally ready to trust and share this part of my life with all of you, and I hope that sharing it can comfort you or someone you love.

The Darkest Moment

Looking back on my 18th year is still tricky; it was filled with some of the darkest moments of my life. Things hit their worst during my first year of university, especially in residence. I went in with the mindset that you get out of the experience what you put into it, so I pushed myself to go out, rush Greek life, join clubs, and attend frat parties. But deep down, that wasn’t who I was. Both of my grandparents had gone to the same university. My grandpa had been a dedicated fraternity member who later became a successful law student, and my grandma, still a freshman at the time, had built her friend group through him. I remember the night I had my worst panic attack; I had to leave my dorm room and sit on the stairs my grandparents had once walked to their lecture halls. My heart raced from my chest as I sat on the phone with my grandma. My grandpa, who I lost when I was young, had always been a guiding presence in my life, and in that moment, I felt him telling me I needed to leave. The residence that had once been a home to both my grandparents wouldn’t be where I made my happy memories. Maybe that was intentional. But I also know that if I hadn’t tried, if I hadn’t gone to my dream school, gotten into my top program, I would have spent the rest of my life wondering what if. And it wasn’t all bad. I made some fantastic friends with whom I still keep in touch today. More importantly, I learned to let go of relationships that weren’t helping me grow. My breaking point came the night my roommate returned from a frat formal and found me self-harming. What hurt the most wasn’t just that I was at my lowest, but that she never acknowledged it; never even tried to check in, even though she knew I was struggling. I don’t blame anyone for what I was going through, but it was in that moment that I realized the people I was desperately trying to be friends with weren’t the kind of people who would help me heal. I had to get help. On the night of March 17, ironically, St. Patrick’s Day, I was at a party at another university, surrounded by people but feeling completely alone. All I wanted was my mom. She has always been my safe space, maybe because she’s been open about her mental health struggles for as long as I can remember. The moment I told her what was happening, it felt like the storm had passed. I moved back home. My mom booked me doctor’s appointments, and we spent our nights doing crafts and watching movies like we used to when I was in high school. It felt like coming back to the safest place I had ever known. We always joke that we were roommates before we were mother and daughter; when she got home from work, I’d have dinner in the oven, and she’d pick out a thriller for us to watch while we ate on the couch. And sometimes, going home is okay. I thought I needed to be on my own to grow, but my time back home gave me the strength to take on the world the way I have these past two years.

The First Anniversary: A Turning Point

Last March, on the first anniversary of the turning point in my life, I was on holiday in Cuba with my mom and grandma. Traveling together has always been something the Abbey girls love to do. My mom is the one who keeps us in line: booking everything, driving us around, while my grandma is in charge of all things educational and, of course, alcoholic. My expensive taste in wine started on a Tuscany tour long before I knew what wine was back in Canada. No matter where we go, we always find a way to have the best time, and this trip was what I needed to commemorate how far I had come. My grandma supported my growth, especially after my three-month program at Disney, which had changed me in ways I never expected. I went out of my shell on that trip and formed lifelong friendships. Just recently, one of the friends I made in Cuba came to visit me in Florida, and we laughed as we scrolled through our old group chat from that week. I still remember how I first caught their attention; one of them spotted me salsa dancing with the resort staff alone. That week, I was reminded never to change who I am and never let anyone make me feel like I should be less. They all supported my big dreams of working at the Walt Disney Company, and I truly believed in myself for the first time, too. It’s incredible how once you start being yourself, you finally find people who are meant for you. Coming off the high of my first Disney program, I finally felt like I was living, not just existing.

The Second Anniversary: A Celebration of Life

Here we are, two years later. Two years since I had no plan, no vision for my future. And now? I have all the dreams in the world. I just returned from a cruise with my best friend from the Disney program; someone from halfway across the globe in Norway. If you had told 18-year-old me that I’d be here, traveling the world with people I love, working towards a career I’m passionate about, I never would have believed you. But my 20th year felt different. For the first time, I wasn’t just surviving; I was living. I could finally see how much I had grown, and I knew that none of this would have been possible if I hadn’t asked for help at 18. That moment of vulnerability changed everything. Once I let myself be honest, I saw that I wasn’t alone in my darkness; more importantly, it is possible to see the light again. I started this blog to share my story and to encourage others to be honest about their feelings. My mom always tells me it’s okay to feel all the feelings. She reminds me that the most intelligent, creative people often feel things profoundly, but not everyone learns how to channel those emotions in a way that helps them. I’m here, to remind you that your feelings are valid, your struggles don’t define you, and healing is possible. You are never alone in this.

Dreams I Never Thought Possible

For the first time, I believe I can have the life I want. The kind of life where I don’t have to choose between ambition and family; I can be both the strong businesswoman I’ve always dreamed of and have a life filled with love and connection. I opened up to my friend about this long-held fear on the cruise. I used to believe I had to sacrifice one dream for another, that business success meant giving up the idea of a home, family, and balance. But now, I see that I can have both. These are dreams I never would have imagined two years ago, when I was lost in self-doubt and fear of the unknown. It reminds me of a moment from a Disney trip years ago that has stayed with me ever since. My cousin and I met a woman who owned a PR firm, and though I don’t remember her name, she left a lasting impression. She looked us in the eyes and said, Not many people will genuinely admire you, so when you find those who do, never take it for granted. At the time, I didn’t realize how much those words would shape me. Looking back, she felt like a guardian angel; someone placed in my path at the right moment to spark something inside me. She ignited my interest in business, a field I never thought I belonged in. And now, years later, it’s becoming my reality.

The Power of Strong Women

Growing up surrounded by strong women, I’ve witnessed life's many different paths. Each of us has had our journey, struggles, and triumphs to get to where we are today. My grandmother always had this fascinating idea; what if she, her mother, and my mom could meet each other at the age of thirty? Would they be friends? Would they recognize themselves in one another? My grandmother started a family young, divorced young, and rebuilt her life as a single woman in a new city, Stratford, and eventually became a full-time professor as a grandmother. Later in life, she found her true love, my Papa.

On the other hand, my mom ended a few engagements, raised me as a single mother, and built a career as a full-time principal. Now, she’s finally settled down with a man who makes her truly happy, and I couldn’t be happier for her. Both have shown me that love isn’t something you chase, but grows from within. Only once you know who you are, love will find its way to you in its most accurate form. I never knew my great-grandmother, but I’ve always heard fantastic things about her. She never wanted to be called “Grandma”, her favorite story was Little Women, so my mom called her Marmie.

When I was born, my grandma also wanted a unique name. She rooted for me to be named Hannah (which didn’t pass) but settled on Hana as her grandmother's name instead. And now, my mom, officially a dog grandma to my little Moose, has taken on the name Gogo. I think it’ll stick great with future grandchildren. After all, Goldie Hawn is “GoGo” to Kate Hudson’s kids, and she’s always been one of my favorite celebrities. I’ve been thinking a lot about time and how we grow into ourselves. My cousin just turned 30, reflecting on how much can change in a decade. My little cousin, 10 years younger than me, now looks up to me, how I once needed someone to look up to. It’s a full-circle moment, seeing how we all evolve, yet carry pieces of those who came before us.

Conclusion

I couldn’t see a future for myself two years ago, but now, I wake up every day excited for what’s to come. I’ve learned that healing isn’t linear, it’s a journey of rediscovering and choosing yourself. Repeatedly I’ve learned that vulnerability is a strength, that the right people will love you for exactly who you are, and that asking for help is never a sign of weakness. If you’re in a dark place, please know it won’t always feel this way. Life has a way of surprising you, of giving you moments of pure joy you never imagined possible. I am living proof of that. And if sharing my story helps even one person believe that there is light beyond the darkness, then every step of this journey has been worth it.