An excerpt from Rebecca's upcoming book:

A Letter to You

Fear once gripped every corner of my life. Fear of change. Fear of starting over. Fear of losing time with my children and wondering who would protect them if I couldn’t be there for them fully. Fear of being too small to make it out on my own.

I was paralyzed for years. The kind of fear that whispers you’re not enough and leaves you questioning who you are beyond the labels of wife and mother. I asked myself, “Who am I without him? What do I even like to do? What do I want from my own life?” It’s a crushing feeling to lose sight of yourself, isn’t it? The self-doubt is relentless.

I saw the red flags. I ignored them, told myself that maybe, just maybe, this time it would be different. I poured all my love into being the "perfect" wife and mother, hoping to create the life I thought I was supposed to have. I wanted to believe in the fairy tale, the stability, the safety, the commitment. But it was never as it seemed.

I met him when I was just 14. We grew up together, intertwined in a life that was built on survival, not on true connection. I stayed, even when I knew I should leave. Every time I tried, he convinced me things would change. This time would be different. But it never was. It took years of suffering, guilt, and repeated cycles to finally realize the truth. I was keeping us all trapped.

But here’s what I know now.  You can only stay small for so long. You can only shrink yourself to fit someone else’s idea of you until you break wide open, reclaim your power, and say, “I am done.”

I wish I could tell you that the moment I left was a clean break, a moment of clear vision and perfect timing. It wasn’t. I stumbled, I wavered, I made mistakes. I gave him second chances, third chances, hoping things would work out, believing in him more than I believed in myself. It was only when I saw my children suffering, when I heard their cries for safety, that the weight of my own fear became unbearable. I had to rise, not just for me, but for them. 

I thought I could protect my children from the trauma I had been through, but the truth is, the pain was never just mine. My children felt the weight of our brokenness too, even if they didn’t understand it fully. There came a point when I had to confront the fact that I couldn’t shield them from everything. And when my oldest made a difficult choice, it forced me to face my own fears and weaknesses. Her decision was a wake-up call for me. I was crushed, but it also became the turning point where I realized healing isn’t linear. It’s not always about being the perfect mother, it’s about allowing your children to grow, even if that growth means they have to experience pain on their own terms. Watching her go through this process was both heartbreaking and necessary. It forced me to step up in ways I didn’t think I could. But through it all, the love I had for her never wavered. And in the end, it became clear that both of us were healing in our own ways through this fire.

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t smooth. But somewhere in the process of healing, I learned something profound.  The strength you need to save yourself is already inside you. It has always been there, just waiting for you to remember.

When you finally choose yourself, there’s no going back. Fear becomes just another chapter in your story, not the whole book. I started to see that I could stand on my own, even if it meant walking through fire. I had to shed the version of me that was lost, broken, afraid, and make space for the woman I was always meant to be.  The woman who could build a life of peace, purpose, and strength.

This book is an invitation to you. If you’re holding on to fear, doubt, or guilt like I once did, this is your moment to break free. You are worthy of love that is real, love that doesn’t need to fix you, love that holds you through the mess. You are worthy of a life where you don’t have to shrink, hide, or be anything other than the most authentic version of yourself.

Real love doesn’t come with conditions. It doesn’t come with expectations or fantasy. It comes when you stand fully in truth and allow someone else to do the same. It’s grounded in deep knowing, mutual respect, and divine timing. This is what I want for you. This is what I found for myself.

The road to healing is not linear. It’s messy, painful, and full of unexpected twists. But I promise you, there is something beautiful on the other side. And I’m here to tell you, you can get there. You can rise, again and again. You can reclaim the life and love you deserve.

This book will show you how to step into your truth, embrace your strength, and discover the sacred love that lives beyond your fears. It’s time for you to trust the journey, to lean into the growth, and to walk into your own light. You are already whole, already worthy.

This is your sacred union with yourself, with truth, and with the life you were meant to live.