Below is a personal reflection on my journey in remembering who I am.

This time last year my life was disintegrating.

My company, my health, my relationship.

I felt completely, and utterly lost.

Like I was untethered, floating in space. And not in a good way.

I couldn’t locate passion.

I was disconnected from my purpose.

My spark was gone and I couldn’t fathom how I was going to get it back.

It was the first time in my life that I wanted to give up on everything I’ve worked so hard for.

I remember looking in the mirror and having no idea who was staring back at me.

And wondering how, in my mid-thirties, I could be such a stranger to myself.

With the judgmental voice repeating in my head: how could you let it get this bad?

The only thing I felt like I was doing well was my morning walk around the lake in Central Park.

It didn’t matter if it was 50 degrees or 5, I would bundle up and just start walking.

I think I liked when it was cold, because numbness was what I was going for.

Every day I stopped to sit on a bench and watched as people hustled by.

Wondering if they ever felt time evaporating like I did in this moment.

Wondering if they ever questioned who they were.

Wondering if they felt happy.