June 1: The Day Everything Changed

Today marks six years since Cameron died.

For six years, I have approached this day carrying a weight that is difficult to explain unless you've lived it yourself. Some years felt unbearable. Some years felt numb. Some years felt like I was simply trying to survive the date.

But this year feels different.
Not because I miss him less.
Not because it hurts less.
And certainly not because I've "moved on."
This year feels different because for the first time, I woke up feeling whole.

The last few weeks have brought a lot of closure, clarity, and breakthroughs in my life. I've been organizing things, building systems, creating structure, and laying foundations for the future. For the first time in a very long time, I feel like my life is functioning as an ecosystem instead of a collection of emergencies. And I did all of that knowing this day was coming. I expected the heaviness. Instead, I found gratitude.

The tears that came today didn't feel like the tears of someone drowning. They felt like the tears of someone finally reaching shore. Because when I look around at everything I'm building, I can see Cameron everywhere.

I see him in this community.
I see him in this mission.
I see him in every conversation about mental health, healing, awareness, trauma, and hope.
I see him in the people I'm trying to reach.

He was my mirror. My mini-me. For years I thought I understood him better than he understood himself. Looking back, I realize something deeper was happening. I was trying to understand myself. Neither of us had been taught the things we needed to know. So we fumbled through life together, trying to figure it out as we went .And somehow, even after his death, he continued teaching me. Everything I teach today was born from what we lived.

The awareness.
The healing.
The questions.
The searching.
The determination to understand why people suffer and how we help them suffer less.

The truth is that Cameron has been the fuel behind all of this from the very beginning. Every class .Every paper. Every video. Every post. Every conversation. Every person I reach. Every step toward becoming the woman I promised him I would become.

Today is the first day of June.
The first day of our new monthly theme.
The beginning of another chapter for Live Your Truth Lab.
And it feels fitting that the theme is rebuilding the self.

Because that's exactly what I've spent the last six years doing.
Piece by piece.
Truth by truth.
Choice by choice.

I cannot change what happened.
I cannot go back .
But I can choose what happens next.
I can continue showing up.
I can continue learning.
I can continue helping people find awareness before pain teaches them the hard way.
I can continue being the example I wish I had.
And I can continue honoring my son by living fully.

Today I honor Cameron. Not just with tears. Not just with memories. But with action. With purpose. With this community. With every life I may help touch because of what we lived through together. I am stronger because of him. I am here because of him. I am still becoming because of him.

And today, more than anything else, I am proud to say:
I am Cameron's mom.