It was the summer of my 27th year on this earth. I underwent a big life change and my romantic life was at ground zero – though I knew it was nothing I couldn’t get over.

I was talking to someone about my recent break-up as a way of processing the details. Amid this conversation, this person told me something that just stuck.

“You will love 28.”

Just like that. So certain. I am not sure why his words stuck with me or why I held on to them so closely. Perhaps it gave me some optimism, something to look forward to. I think a small part of me believed it too. A little over a month later I met the man who I would call my boyfriend the following year, at 28 years old, and who will be my husband in a few weeks.

Surely enough, 28 was a great year because I welcomed a very special man into my life, my perfect man. As I got to know him, he checked off all the things I value and desire from a life partner.

With that being said, 28 was also a brutally hard and painfully challenging year. God gave me the good and the bad all at once. He continues to give me the good and the bad. Not so much “bad”, but tough stuff that makes life what it is. The good was simply beautiful. The good was being surrounded by supportive friends and family who got me through the toughest times of my life to date. Prior to 28, I was already struggling with the declining health of one of my family members. When I was 28, their illness exacerbated. The magnitude and intensity of this person’s symptoms affected the lives of everyone in my immediate family. It felt like something just ripped right through me slowly, loudly, destructively. This in large part, is a reason why I haven’t written in more than a year. What I endured was so much bigger than anything I have experienced in my life. Writing about it meant accepting, which is not something I was capable of doing at the time. At that time, I was just trying to get by. And writing about anything else seemed in-genuine. I am not writing about this experience in detail because it’s too close to home and I want to protect the people involved and their right to privacy. Therefore, what I do write will be from my personal experience.

Without getting too much into detail, this experience and the emotional injuries acquired were so profound, it was honestly so unbearable to get through the days.

I can’t believe this is my life right now. I can’t believe that this is happening. I never thought I would be placed in this situation.

It was truly unbearable. After decades of zero interaction, the extended paternal family began aggravating an already excruciating, painful wound. Criticism. Judgment. Assumptions. Some with good intentions, while others remain explicitly questionable. It made coping so much harder with pronounced feelings of hopelessness, sadness, and disappointment; it was truly heartbreaking. Somewhere around this time, I turned 29. That’s when things spun more out of control as if that was even possible. I had never felt more displaced in my life. Physically, mentally, emotionally. My life as I knew it was falling apart. And a pandemic came. What a way to put the cherry on top. The pandemic came at a good time for me when I needed time to slow down so I could complete my classwork, find a job, a place to live and make sure I got through the last few weeks of grad school. The pandemic also impacted my mom’s side of the family as my grandpa was on the brink of death with pneumonia and other life-threatening conditions while we were unable to be with him at the hospital. But by the grace of God, we got through that hump too. During this time, a particular paternal extended family kept scratching the scab off the wound that was trying its best to heal. While the erratic and explosive parts of the situation have mellowed, this journey is ongoing.

So now you know why writing about anything else seemed so wrong, and I was not ready to write about pain and suffering. When I considered writing about what was occurring, I was stopped by the fear of criticism and judgment, knowing my words might reach particular family members. It was a position I did not want to put myself in.

As tough as some extended family made it for us during a time we were trying to stay afloat, God came through with his protection. He showed me we were not alone. He showed me how much love and support we have from family members who truly know our hearts, our minds, and who we are. And God showed me how loved I am by family and my friends, who were so immensely supportive in the biggest and smallest of ways. And my life partner, who was just the person I needed him to be. I have been so fortunate.

Although it was hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel with the prolonged feelings of stress, anxiety, and fear, and the intimidation and threats that my family and I were receiving from extended family. I had so much more love. I had so much more support. I feel like God took this time to show me the people who will be there for my family and me no matter what. He showed me that I had amazing and supportive friends to confide in during these times. Friends who offered their support with open arms and did the smallest things just to pick me up.

All in this time, my relationship with God has grown and I feel like it happened just at the right time. I developed special friendships in my adulthood who had a stronger faith than I, who helped me in so many ways and gave me the emotional support I needed to finish off the last few weeks of grad school. The friends I made in my childhood and young adult life gave me a lot of love and unconditional support. My family, my maternal extended family, and a few from my dad’s side, I cannot thank them enough. And lastly… this is the part where I recognize the man in my life who played a big part in bringing me closer to God. The man who I met when I was 27, became my boyfriend when I was 28, and who in a few weeks, will be my husband. God knew what he was doing when he brought these individuals into my life.