From a Furnace Room to the World: How I Reclaimed My Life and Made It My Own

There is a widely-held belief that rock bottom is a final destination. And it can certainly feel like it is - suddenly downsizing from a 4-bedroom house to a furnace room definitely felt like my rock bottom. How could I possibly rise up and turn my life around?

But with serious self-reflection, rock bottom became my doorway. Not a well-lit, welcoming one, mind you. It was more like a rusty old hatch that I had to crawl through, battered and bruised, unsure of where it would lead. But I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t keep living the life I’d been living. Something had to change. I had to change.

For so long, I’d put everyone else first. I was the helper, the fixer, the one who made everything okay for others. And yet, when everything fell apart, I was left with nothing but myself. That’s the cruel irony of codependency—it convinces you that your worth is tied to how useful you are to others. And when there’s no one to save, you start to question whether you matter at all.

That furnace room became my reckoning. The place where I began to create my life, for me, by me!

I started small. A journal. A list of dreams I’d buried under other people’s needs. One of the dreams that kept resurfacing was travel. I wanted to see the world—not just through postcards or someone else’s stories—but with my own eyes. I wanted to wake up in unfamiliar places and feel alive again.

At the time, it felt impossible. But slowly, I started rebuilding. I stepped gingerly back into the working world while attending night classes at my local university. Eventually, I found work that aligned with my values. I built a life that wasn’t flashy or perfect, but it was mine. I stopped waiting for permission to want more. I gave myself that permission.

One of my first trips was Paris simply because it was a huge step in taking my life back and creating a new story. The abuser had won a trip to Paris and promised it would be our romantic honeymood getaway. I was as giddy as a schoolgirl in love. Sadly, he took the trip from me and took his behind-my-back girlfriend. Paris became a place I had to take back for me and I did. This year I wandered the beautiful streets of Paris for the fourth time and I will do it again!

Today, I travel the world on my terms. I’ve seen sunrises in Italy, wandered side streets in Albania, and watched waves crash along the coast of Portugal. I work from cafés, write from train stations, and sometimes cry with joy at how far I’ve come. Not because it’s always easy, but because I no longer abandon myself to make someone else comfortable.

The woman who once lived in a furnace room is still with me. She reminds me to stay humble. To stay grateful. To never, ever forget how far I’ve come.

If you’re in your own version of a furnace room right now—emotionally, physically, spiritually—I want you to know this: it’s not the end. It might be the very place where your real life begins. Your rebirth doesn’t have to look like mine. But it will be yours. And that’s what makes it beautiful.

You’re not broken. You’re just becoming.

And if you’re feeling stuck or unsure of where to begin, here are three journal prompts to help you reconnect with your own power:

✨ What do I keep telling myself is impossible—and what if it’s not?
✨ If I stopped waiting for permission, what would I choose today?
✨ What did I love or long for before the world told me to be practical?

Your story isn’t over. You’re just beginning a new chapter.