The Day I Broke Down in the HEB Parking Lot

I want to tell y'all about the day I was crying in the H-E-B parking lot. My four-year-old was crying too. We had just moved to Texas from Maryland, and both of us wanted to go back. But it wasn't just homesickness. I was grieving.

We moved at the end of September 2023. Before the move, I had closed my massage therapy business. Just two months earlier, I had been honored with an award from an organization that had become incredibly dear to me: the Business Women's Network of Howard County. They selected me for the Boss Lady Award. I was truly honored and proudly accepted it at our luncheon. Then, shortly afterward, it got packed into a moving box along with everything else. I didn't celebrate that award. I didn't post about it. I didn't share it on LinkedIn. I barely talked about it at all. Three months later, my life felt completely different from the one I had worked so hard to build.

We had lived in Maryland for nearly six years. I had my business, a home I loved, trusted medical providers, wonderful clients I still think about often, a few close friends, and a community of women who regularly inspired and encouraged me. I was finally starting to feel like I wasn't the new person in town.

Then we moved across the country. I was 32 weeks pregnant and sweaty AF. I arrived in Texas with no job, no friends, a rental house full of boxes, and an urgent need to find a new care team and hospital before giving birth. One day, while unpacking, I came across that award. I pulled it out of the box and placed it in a cabinet. Then I swallowed the urge to cry.

Because if I'm being honest, I wasn't sure who I was anymore. Was I "just" a mom? "Just" a military spouse? What was my life here going to look like? The contrast between who I had been and where I found myself felt overwhelming, and almost embarrassing. It was hard not to measure my new beginning against everything I had left behind.

That day in the H-E-B parking lot, my son sat in the backseat of our hot car, pouting and asking why we couldn't just go back to our old house. And I cried too.

Looking back now, I realize I wasn't just mourning a place. I was mourning an identity, a community, a business, and a chapter of life that mattered deeply to me. But here's what I know now: Starting over doesn't erase what you've built. Moving forward doesn't invalidate what you've accomplished. And changing seasons doesn't make you any less of the woman you were before. That award sitting in my cabinet wasn't a reminder of something I lost.

So I think it's finally time to celebrate it. I earned that award. I built that business. I made an impact. And no move, career transition, or life change can take that away. So yes. I am a fucking Boss Lady. And if you're in a season where you're starting over, grieving a version of yourself, or wondering what's next, maybe this is your reminder too: Everything you've built still belongs to you. The woman who accomplished those things is still here.