I tried my best to take my own photos 💜They say you need a reason to stay. For a long time, I couldn't find one for myself.Before my three children were even a thought—back when I believed I would never get the chance to be a mother—there was a night where the darkness felt final. I didn't think I’d see the sunrise, let alone a future.But then, I thought of a little girl who wasn't even here yet. My niece, Rhea.I remember picking up the phone and calling my brother. I was terrified, shaking, and lost, but I managed to tell him: “I need to meet her. I need to see my reason.” I stayed because of a baby I hadn't even held yet. I stayed because I promised myself I’d see her face.If you know me, you know the struggle it was to get here. I spent so long believing "motherhood" was a dream I wasn't allowed to have. Now, I look at my husband and the three miracles we created together, and I catch my breath. It is so hard to believe they are mine. I almost missed all of this.I’m stepping in front of the lens for this project because I want you to know that "Tomorrow" is more beautiful than you can imagine. I am a survivor, a wife, a mother, and a witness to the fact that staying is worth it.I stayed for Rhea. Now, I live for them.

They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but sometimes it just makes you tired. My battle with depression started at 13, triggered by bullying from people I thought were my 'friends' and a partner I thought I could trust. By 16, my body joined the fight against me as I began navigating the chronic pain of Ankylosing Spondylitis and Crohn’s disease.At 17, a terrifying misdiagnosis pushed me to a breaking point. I truly believed my world was ending, and in that pain, I tried to leave it behind through drug use. Even after learning the diagnosis was wrong, the shadows of anxiety and depression didn't just disappear. I was carrying a weight that felt impossible to bear.Early 2023 brought a massive shift: I found out I was pregnant. I tried to make a toxic relationship work for the sake of the family, but by the time my daughter was only 6 weeks old, I was a single mother.But there was Judith.I named her after my grandmother. I truly believe my grandma is my guardian angel, and she sent me an angel of my own just when I needed her most. When the world feels too heavy to carry, I still go to my grandparents' grave—it’s the one place where I feel truly safe and heard.My journey hasn't been easy, and the road isn't always smooth, but my daughter is my lifeline. She is the reason I stay, the reason I fight, and the proof that even after the darkest nights, there is a reason to keep going. And to my grandmother in heaven: Thank you for hearing my silent cries and sending me the exact miracle I needed to stay on this earth. If you’re struggling, please reach out for help. You are not alone. 🤍

I’ve learned that the heart keeps talking, even when there is no one left to answer.For this session of the Stay Another Day project, Halie brought more than just memories. She brought his ashes, his picture, and a heart full of things left to say. She calls it "Conversations to Heaven.”We set out two chairs. One for Halie, and one for Chandler who should still be sitting in it. Watching her sit—next to a chair where he should be, like he was just about to lean back and laugh—was a heavy, sacred experience. It’s a visual representation of the void suicide leaves behind, but also the unbreakable bond of a cousin’s love. She isn't just sitting with a memory; she’s keeping the conversation going.To anyone feeling like their story should end: look at these chairs. Look at the love Halie carries. Your voice matters. Your presence is irreplaceable.If you’re in that dark place right now, please just try to get through the next hour. Take a nap. Go to sleep. Sometimes, you just need to make it to tomorrow. There will come a day—maybe it’s next week, or maybe it’s years from now—where you will look back and be so deeply glad you didn’t do it.I’ve been looking back lately and having those moments myself. I am so thankful I didn’t miss all of this. It breaks my heart to have to tell these stories, but I know how important they are to tell because we live in a world where these battles are real, and they shouldn't be fought in silence.Please, stay for the conversations yet to come.If you’re struggling, please reach out. Text or call 988 (US) or find a local crisis line. You don't have to carry the weight alone.