Breaking Cycles, Setting Boundaries & Protecting Peace: A Raw Reflection

It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve written a blog post — and in that time, a lot has happened, and yet somehow… not a lot has happened all at once. But today, as I lay in bed scrolling Facebook, doing that mindless doom-scroll we all do before we find the strength to face the day, something hit me.

A post showed up from another Pure Romance sister. She was talking about breaking cycles and setting boundaries — and how being the one in your family who chooses to break generational trauma can be isolating. Because when you’re the one choosing growth, people often turn you into the villain.

And damn, did it hit me like a truck.

Because for the last couple of months, things have been hard. Wedding planning should be fun and exciting, and parts of it are — but for us, it’s also been heavy. We fell behind financially, had life throw some serious curveballs at us, and got into survival mode. And through it all, people stepped up. People helped. People showed up. People saw us.

And let me be clear: this post isn’t just about the wedding. It’s about what the wedding represents. It’s about worthiness — feeling worthy enough to ask for support, worthy enough to receive help, worthy enough to believe that yes, this is our moment and we deserve for it to happen.

I’ve been fundraising — through Facebook, through garage sales, through my business — and we’re nearly there. As of today, we’re $610 away from having our full wedding invoice paid and $1100 from covering our plane tickets. We are so close.

But let me tell you: fundraising on Facebook triggers people. It makes them uncomfortable. People don’t like being asked for help — or watching other people ask. It stirs up all kinds of feelings they don’t want to look at. And when you’re open and honest — like I always am — people either lean in or lash out.

Case in point: a message I received recently from someone named CJ, who came into my inbox just to tear me apart. Called me and Jay garbage. Told me I lost customers because I dared to ask for support. But here’s the thing: if I “lost customers” because I fundraised for something that matters to me — they weren’t my people to begin with. If I make someone uncomfortable simply by being honest and vulnerable, then I am not their cup of tea. And that’s OK. I’m not meant for everyone. My truth won’t always be palatable — but it will always be mine.

That post this morning got me thinking about the version of me that existed eight years ago. Back when I had just moved into my first apartment — paid for by my income, from a job I loved. I was about a year and a half into my relationship with Jay. Life felt full of potential, but also full of questions. I wanted more, but I didn’t even know what that meant. I didn’t have language for it yet.

Just a year before, I had gone in for a laparoscopic procedure on my 30th birthday — and walked out with a diagnosis of endometriosis and adenomyosis. My doctor wanted to take my uterus. I didn’t let them. I still haven’t. But that moment — that body-altering, life-changing diagnosis — cracked something open. It changed how I saw myself. How I moved through the world. It made me confront what it meant to be a woman in a body that felt like it was betraying her.

At the same time, my relationship with my biological mother was shifting. After living with her for the first time since I was six years old (thanks, trauma and foster care), things were starting to fall apart. Our dynamic was toxic. And painful. And confusing. And it brought up feelings I didn’t know I had. I moved out again at 30 — and with that, started untangling the webs of trauma I had inherited.

Fast forward to now, and I still find myself having to remind myself that I am worthy. Worthy of happiness. Worthy of support. Worthy of love. Worthy of asking for what I need. My foster mom, Paula, did everything she could to teach me these things — and I thank her every day for it — but I’ve had to relearn them, again and again, because of other adults who made me believe otherwise.

Today reminded me of how far I’ve come. I’m no longer afraid to ask for help. I’m not scared to make people uncomfortable. I set boundaries. I say no. I protect my peace. I even walked away from my biological mother for over a month back in December because I was done being spoken to without being heard. There’s a big difference between being talked at and being talked with, and I deserve the latter.

And I’ve gotten to this place because of people. Two people, in particular, who helped shift my entire world without even realizing they were doing it. Who helped me heal parts of myself I didn’t even know were cracked wide open. Yes, I did the work. I showed up. I fought for my growth. But they gave me the first push. And they’ll always hold a sacred place in my heart.

Do people still call me selfish? A bitch? Too emotional? Too dramatic? Sure. But I don’t care — unless you’re someone I love and trust deeply. Unless you’re my chosen family. Unless you’ve earned that voice in my world.

And even then… sometimes I still have to set boundaries.

I’m 37 years old. I’ve carried the weight of the world since I was a child. And I’m still carrying it. But now I’m doing it differently. I’m doing it in ways that serve me, not just everyone else. I’m doing it without abandoning myself in the process. And that? That is growth. That is cycle-breaking. That is fucking hard.

 

Because here’s the funny part about protecting your peace: it causes chaos. It makes people uncomfortable. It makes people angry. But that’s not a you problem. That’s a them problem. And if they can’t accept your peace, they don’t deserve to be in your circle.

Final Thoughts

 

We don’t give ourselves enough credit. It’s easier to fixate on what’s gone wrong than to celebrate what’s gone right. But I’m learning to shift that. I’m learning to give myself grace. I’m learning to celebrate the small wins — because for me, they’re not small. They’re massive.

And if you’re on that journey too — learning to set boundaries, learning to protect your peace, learning to break cycles — I see you. I am you. And I hope you’ll give yourself a damn pat on the back. You’re doing better than you think. Keep going.

You are worthy. You are allowed to take up space. And your growth is valid, even if it makes someone else uncomfortable.

 

XO 💋~
Ashley Jo