Coming Home to Yourself: The Bravery of Remaining True to Who You Are
When I first encountered the language I now write in, it wasn’t the one I was born to. It wasn’t spoken in my home or taught as the obvious path. But something in it felt like mine. I fell in love with its rhythm, its nuance, its soul. And even when people—well-meaning, practical people—tried to dissuade me, I couldn’t let it go.
I knew in my heart: this was the language I would live in. And today, I think in it. Dream in it. Most of all, I write in it. I don’t believe I could express myself as well in any other—not even the one I was born to. I listened to my heart. And I’ve never once regretted it.
Because sometimes, the bravest thing we do is return to who we’ve always been.
We all learn to bend. To adapt. To follow the path laid out for us—by family, by society, by fear. But there comes a moment when something inside us whispers: This isn’t me. And if we’re lucky, or bold, or desperate enough… we listen.
In Trapped & Liberated, Countess Alexandra Winters has lived the life expected of her: a cold marriage, a quiet heart, a role that never fit. She’s been someone’s wife, someone’s countess, someone’s obligation. But when she meets Antoine Duret—a privateer with no title, no allegiance, and no place in her world—she doesn’t turn away. She turns toward him. Toward herself. Toward the woman she buried beneath duty. Her choice isn’t reckless. It’s a return. And it’s brave.
Promise me, should you ever find him, you will think only of yourself and take the same risk you so willingly have taken for me. Promise me!
Her brother’s words, his plea for her to seize happiness should she ever find it, echoed in her ears, and all of a sudden, Alexandra knew exactly what she wanted. (Trapped & Liberated)
In Flames of Winter, Sarah Mortensen has always been the good daughter. She’s followed the rules, accepted the path laid out for her, and surrendered her voice again and again. Until her father’s debts demand another marriage of convenience—and something inside her breaks. This time, she runs. Not to escape, but to reclaim. To ask what she wants. To believe she deserves it. And in the quiet of a snow-covered cottage, she begins to choose—not just freedom, but herself.
“What is it that ye want, lass? What secret dreams live in yer heart? If ye had no one and nothing to worry about, what would be yer choice?”
Sarah stared at him, as though he had suddenly sprouted wings.
“Ye dunna know, little wisp, do ye?” Keir murmured, saddened by the thought that she had never been inspired to dream. “Ye never dared ask yerself that question.” He sighed. “Then ask yerself now. What do ye want?” (Flames of Winter)
And in Once Upon an Aggravatingly Heroic Kiss, Lady Edith Weston doesn’t return to herself—she never left. Edie possesses a rare kind of clarity. She knows what’s right, and she follows it. Not with rebellion, but with certainty. She doesn’t ask what rules exist or whether she’s allowed to bend them. She simply acts.
“I don’t believe forcing a match will do anyone any good,” Edith replied, thinking of Adele and her betrothed. “I believe we need to be who we are, openly and honestly, in order to find someone who is a good match.” She smiled at Lady Mary. “Sometimes, patience is needed, but it will happen. You just wait and see.” (Once Upon an Aggravatingly Heroic Kiss)
When she sees love blooming between her friend and a visiting gentleman, she doesn’t hesitate. She steps in—not to interfere, but to protect something precious. And in doing so, she sets a legacy in motion.
The Whickertons begin with her—and they carry her conviction forward for generations. Edie doesn’t just stay true to herself. She shows us what it looks like to live that way from the very beginning.
These women don’t just choose joy. They choose truth. They choose themselves. And in doing so, they remind us that it’s never too late to come home to who we are.
So if you’ve ever felt lost in a life that doesn’t feel like yours…
If you’ve ever followed a path because it was expected, not because it was right…
If you’ve ever wondered whether it’s too late to return—
If you’ve ever followed a path because it was expected, not because it was right…
If you’ve ever wondered whether it’s too late to return—
Let me tell you: It’s not.
You are allowed to change course.
You are allowed to reclaim your voice.
You are allowed to come home to yourself.
You are allowed to change course.
You are allowed to reclaim your voice.
You are allowed to come home to yourself.
Because the truest kind of love—the kind that lasts—will never ask you to be someone else. It will meet you where you are.
And walk beside you, just as you are.
Have you ever lost yourself? Ever re-discovered yourself when you least expected it?
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