Jessica Woodville | Memoir & Musings

For so long, my life has been about survival. Now, it’s about something more.

My memoir ends on a hopeful note, but also a realistic one—life is still hard. My physical health continues to be a challenge, but for the first time in a long time, my mental health is stronger (in some ways) than it has ever been. Not because I’ve disconnected from my past but because I have faced it head-on and worked through so much of it.

Yet, I’ve come to a realization: if I let my current physical limitations dictate my life, if I wait until I feel “better” before chasing my dreams, my mental health will suffer again. The battle between my mind and body is already exhausting, and my nervous system still doesn’t know how to differentiate between excitement and danger. Even small moments of joy—those little butterflies we get when something exciting is about to happen—send signals of alarm to my brain. I wrote about this in my memoir, about how years of trauma conditioned my body to anticipate the worst even in the best moments.

Because of that, I withdrew. I hermited myself away, avoiding the risk of a health flare-up, avoiding the fear of being a burden, of embarrassing myself. I wasn’t “fun Jess” anymore, the people-pleaser who made sure everyone else was happy, even at her own expense. I was, and still am, a little broken. But I have also come to realize that avoiding life to protect myself from pain was only making me feel more lost.

When I reread the section of my memoir about my impromptu trip to London in 2018, I saw just how much I had turned inward, how I had become more afraid of the world than ever before. I had done the hard work of healing my past, but I was still avoiding the trauma I am still living: the toxic environment I’m stuck in. That battle is too big to face alone.

So, what comes next?

Next comes refusing to let my fire go out again. Next comes following my passions, even when it’s hard. Next comes showing my daughters what it means to truly live. Because how can I teach them to be brave if I lose all my courage?

A few years ago, I had an idea for a travel vlog—one that wouldn’t just be about beautiful places, but about pushing through whatever holds you back. A journey centered around finding those little glimmers in life, the small moments that make you feel something again. I want this next chapter to be raw, honest, and vulnerable. To show what it means to push through complex PTSD, to navigate the effects of a lifetime of trauma that may very well be tied to my chronic illness. To prove that we can choose not to let our pasts take away our futures.

As part of this next chapter, I will be creating a dedicated page on my website for my bucket list. This list will include everything from small, joyful experiences—like jumping on hotel beds to appease my inner kiddo—to bigger dreams, like traveling to Greece and exploring its rich history. I want to document these experiences as a way of holding myself accountable and showing that even with challenges, it’s still possible to find joy, adventure, and fulfillment.

Because I still struggle. Some days are super freaking dark to be honest. But I always find the light again.