When My World *Literally* Shifted

In June of 2021, a tree fell into my house after a storm passed through. One moment everything was normal, and the next, my home was no longer safe to live in. It wasn’t just damage to a structure — it was the sudden loss of stability and routine, the kind that stays with you longer than you expect.

For a long time after, storms carried more weight than they should have. Thunder wasn’t just noise — it was a reminder. It took a few years before my body stopped bracing automatically, before weather became just weather again.

In the immediate aftermath, something else stood out just as clearly: the way people showed up.

Friends opened their homes to me without hesitation. Weeks at a time. Spare rooms, couches, meals, and the kind of generosity that doesn’t keep score. I was never made to feel like an inconvenience — only welcomed.

Even people I had just met through Bektash offered support if I needed it. No obligation. No expectation. Just kindness. It was a quiet reminder that family isn’t always about history — sometimes it’s about presence.

One of the greatest gifts from that season was the time I got to spend with my best friend’s kids while staying with them. Living there turned ordinary days into memories I still hold close. To this day, when I visit, they sometimes ask if I’m sleeping over — and that still gets me every time.

Through all of it, I learned more than I ever expected to. About trust. About accepting help without guilt. About respect, love, and what I was actually capable of handling when life shifted without warning.

That experience gave me a new lease on life in more ways than one. It eventually led me to the first place Mike and I would live together — earlier than planned, but exactly when it was meant to happen.

The tree falling into my house took away a sense of safety for a while. But it also revealed something far more lasting: the people who would hold me up when everything else quite literally came crashing down.

I will always be grateful for the people who made an unsteady season feel safe, steady, and survivable.