𓂃 𓈒❤︎ The Hardest Lessons Life Has Taught Me 𓂃 𓈒❤︎
By Raee, aka the Bipolar Baddie 💋
Life ain’t never handed me roses without the thorns. And if we’re being real, sometimes it didn’t hand me anything but the dirt. I’ve danced in storms, sobbed under fluorescent lights, and smiled through the pain like it was a damn performance. But somewhere between the chaos and the comebacks, I learned. I grew. I survived — and babygirl, that’s the real flex.
This ain’t a polished fairy tale. It’s my story. These are the hardest lessons life has tattooed on my soul, one scar at a time.
1. Love Won’t Heal What You Don’t Face Yourself ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖
I used to think love was a cure. Like, if I just had someone who saw me — all of me — then maybe the ache in my chest would go away. Maybe the whirlwind of bipolar highs and lows would slow down, and I could breathe.
Then I met Drew.
And yes, he changed everything in the most beautiful way. But even the deepest love can’t fix what you refuse to unpack. It took me a minute to realize that relationships aren’t about being saved — they’re about having a safe space to save yourself.
Drew didn’t try to rescue me. He held my hand while I learned to rescue myself. And that’s real love.
2. Motherhood Stays With You, Even When Your Babies Don’t ⋆༺❀༻⋆
This one hurts to write. Honestly, it always will.
I’m a mother of four beautiful girls — Elysia, Kylynn, Raylee, and Izzy. And though I made the hardest choice to give them a life I couldn’t provide at the time, they’re still stitched into every part of me. Every decision. Every dream. Every breath.
People don’t talk enough about the silent kind of motherhood. The ache of knowing your love wasn’t enough to be their every day, but strong enough to let them go.
That lesson? It taught me that love is sacrifice. That healing is messy. And that even when the world doesn’t see you as a mom, your soul knows the truth.
3. You Can’t Outrun Mental Illness, But You Can Learn to Dance With It ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚
Bipolar disorder is a tricky, twisty thing. Some days I feel like I’m on top of the world — ideas flowing, heart racing, ready to create a whole damn empire before lunch. Other days? I can’t get out of bed. The weight is crushing, and the silence is deafening.
For the longest time, I fought it. I tried to “fix” myself, to force normal. But what I’ve learned is that I’m not broken. I’m not a puzzle missing pieces.
I’m a mosaic. Shattered and beautiful.
I’ve learned to move with the rhythm of my disorder. To lean into self-awareness. To forgive the moments I crash and celebrate the moments I shine. Bipolar didn’t break me — it made me more alive.
4. Rock Bottom Is Where You Meet Your True Self
Recovery from drug addiction ain’t pretty. Meth had its claws in me for a while, and escaping that grip felt like clawing my way out of a burning building with bare hands. It stripped me to the bone. Took my confidence, my direction, my peace.
But in that dark, hopeless place, I found something unexpected: me.
The real me. The fighter. The fierce soul who refuses to quit. Every clean day is a silent victory. Every craving I survive is a middle finger to my past.
That low taught me that sometimes, you gotta lose everything to find what really matters. And now? I choose life — loud, wild, and unapologetically mine.
5. Healing Isn’t Linear, and That’s Okay
Whew. Let me say this louder for the people in the back: healing is not a straight line.
There are days I feel like I’ve conquered the world. And then there are nights where a smell, a song, or a random Facebook memory can unravel me like yarn.
I used to beat myself up for not being “better” fast enough. But now I know better. Healing is a spiral, not a staircase. It comes in waves. It repeats old wounds just to test your strength. And even when it feels like you’re back at square one, you’re not.
You’re just deepening the roots.
6. Creativity Is My Medicine
I found a new kind of therapy in rhinestones, drawing, and writing poems that spill my soul onto the page. Press-on nails, sticker designs, coloring books — those aren’t just hobbies. They’re my rebellion. My way of taking pain and turning it into something beautiful.
That’s why I created Fierce Babez and Fierce & Unfiltered. Not just as a business, but as a lighthouse. For the girls who feel broken. For the moms who ache in silence. For the addicts crawling toward daylight. For the bipolar baddies learning to balance.
Every post, every design, every word is a love letter to them — and to the past version of me who needed it most.
7. People Will Judge What They Don’t Understand
Let’s keep it 100. Not everybody claps when you grow. Some folks will always see you as your past, especially if your glow-up makes them uncomfortable.
I’ve had people call me crazy, unstable, dramatic, too sensitive. I’ve had family misunderstand me, and friends disappear when things got hard. And yeah, it hurts. But I’ve learned that their opinion is not my identity.
You don’t owe anyone your healing. Your journey is yours. And the right ones? They’ll see the magic in your mess.
8. You Deserve Softness, Too
This one? Still learning it.
I’ve always been the tough one. The ride-or-die. The empath who gives until she’s empty. But even warriors need rest. Even the strongest women deserve soft places to land.
Lately, I’ve been giving myself permission to be gentle. To cry without shame. To say “no” without guilt. To treat myself like someone I love.
Self-love ain’t bubble baths and face masks. It’s boundaries. It’s shadow work. It’s facing your demons with trembling hands and choosing to stay.
9. You’re Allowed to Dream, Even After Hell
This blog post, this brand, this future I’m building with Drew? It’s proof that I’m no longer surviving — I’m living.
Life has taught me that no matter how far you fall, you can rise again. You can love again. You can dream again.
I wanna build an app that helps addicts and survivors feel less alone. I want my words to reach the girl crying in her room thinking she’s too far gone. I want to leave a legacy of raw truth, creativity, and fierce love.
I may not have all the answers, but baby — I’ve got purpose. And that’s everything.
Final Word: If You’re Reading This, Keep Going
To the one reading this who feels like life keeps knocking you down: I see you. I am you.
And I promise, the hardest lessons often bloom into the most beautiful growth. Keep writing your story. Keep choosing the light, even when it flickers.
You’re not too broken. You’re just in the middle of your masterpiece.
With love, grit, and glitter,
Raee 💋
The Bipolar Baddie, Creative Queen, Fierce Mama, Forever Healing
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