One year ago, I crossed the state line into Florida with my sweet Sadie, a car full of belongings, a heart full of uncertainty, and one simple promise to myself:

Just give it 12 months.

I didn’t know if Florida would become home. I didn’t know if I would find my footing. I didn’t know if I would rebuild a life that felt authentically mine.

I only knew that I needed a fresh start.

So I made a deal with myself. I could do anything for twelve months.

And now, exactly one year later, I’m sitting on my own patio on a quiet Monday morning, coffee in hand, listening to birds sing as the sun rises over a view that once existed only in my imagination.

What a difference a year makes.

A year ago, I arrived in Florida feeling untethered. I had left behind not just a house and a state, but an entire life I had known for nearly three decades. There were moments during those early months when everything felt temporary; my apartment, my routines, even my sense of self.

But somewhere along the way, temporary became permanent.

The unfamiliar roads became familiar. New friendships were formed. I found my golf community. I discovered favorite beaches, favorite restaurants, favorite quiet places to think. I navigated career challenges, personal heartbreaks, moments of loneliness, and unexpected joys.

Most importantly, I discovered that I was capable of far more than I had ever given myself credit for.

This year required effort. Amazing effort.

There were tears. There were setbacks. There were days when starting over felt impossibly hard. But change always requires effort. Amazing change requires amazing effort.

And today, as I look out from the patio of the home I now own, I realize that all of that effort was worth it.

Because this isn’t just a new house. It’s a new chapter.

Today, I’m heading back to California for a quick visit to get my hair done, hug my kiddos, and reconnect with pieces of the life that will always be part of me. California will always hold so much of my story. It is where I raised my children, built my career, built lifetime friendships and spent most of my life.

But Florida is where I found myself again.

And in just a little over a week, I’ll leave for Italy, a dream trip I’ve been imagining for years. There is something beautifully symbolic about that. One year after arriving in Florida unsure of what my future would hold, I am preparing to set off on another adventure, not because I am running from my life, but because I am fully living it.

One year ago, I arrived in Florida hoping to survive.  Today, I am thriving.

The girl who crossed that state line last June could never have imagined where she would be today. But maybe, deep down, she hoped.

And she was right to hope.

Because sometimes all you need is the courage to begin and the willingness to give yourself twelve months.

You might just surprise yourself.

Flirting with my future turned out to be a great decision. And the beautiful thing is, I know the story isn’t over yet.