Last week, my beloved dog, Oliver, passed away.

He came into my life as a salve. After my mother died, when I was reeling and my siblings and I were not only grieving but also navigating the care of a father who needed medical attention and constant support, I was desperate for joy.

Oliver gave me that.

For nearly 15 years, not a single day went by that that sweet, beautiful, goofy boy didn’t make me smile. And in the days, hours, minutes since he’s gone, that’s what I’m holding onto — the joy, the blessings, the love.

It’s hard.

Anyone who has faced grief and truly allowed themselves to process it in a way that eventually leaves them a better version of themselves, understands this. You put one foot in front of the other and slowly rebuild. You become different, but still whole. And somehow, in ways you never expected, stronger than before.

There’s a phrase that has brought me immense comfort this past week: He existed. And there was love.

He existed. And there is love.

That love doesn’t disappear because he’s no longer here. The tears I cry for him are love bubbling over, like a fountain. Loss doesn’t erase love, it proves it.

And this is where grief and health intersect more deeply than we often realize.

For so many of us, the health journey feels like something we should be able to do on our own. White-knuckle it. Power through. Try harder. Be more disciplined. And when that doesn’t work, the conclusion is almost always the same. Something must be wrong with me.

But let me say this as clearly as possible, with the hope that you hear it down to your core: You are not flawed or broken. You are human. And this is hard.

Reclaiming your health isn’t just about food or movement or habits, it’s an uphill battle on multiple fronts:

There’s the external battle, swimming against the tide in a world that makes unhealthy choices easy, normalized, and constantly reinforced. You’re trying to get upstream while everyone else seems to be floating effortlessly downstream.

And then there’s the internal battle, so quietly pervasive and deeply entrenched that we hardly even know it’s there. The voice that questions whether real change is even possible for you. The old messages you’ve absorbed over time that whisper, You’ve tried before. You’ll fail again. Don’t get your hopes up.

Now, add life. Stress. Responsibilities. All the people who depend on you. Jobs, appointments, endless to do lists. Daily life doesn’t pause while you decide to focus on your health. It keeps coming. And suddenly this journey feels like another full-time job layered onto an already overloaded schedule.

Of course, it feels overwhelming. This is hard. But also true: it’s possible.

Just not in isolation.

In hindsight, it’s no coincidence that my health began to improve only after I had fully processed my parents’ deaths and found my emotional footing again, held by my beautiful community, surrounded by loving family and friends, and buoyed by the pure joy and unconditional love Oliver brought into my life.

This is why community matters, why groups of like-minded people swimming upstream together matter. This is why accountability and support aren’t just something that would be nice to have, they’re essential.

We were never meant to do hard things alone, yet we keep expecting ourselves to. Getting help doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re wise enough to stop doing this the hardest way possible.

Now I’m picking up the pieces again, refocusing on my life, new avenues for joy,  my health, my career, my passion to help make a difference in this world.

Our lives, all of our lives, are marked by moments that force us to ask: What’s the point? Why bother?

And the answer, for me, is the same — because I exist. And there is love.

And that love, whether it comes from a group, a supportive community, a doctor, a coach, a friend, or a shared journey, can carry us through the hardest things.

I don’t have to do this alone. We don’t have to do this alone. We were never meant to. And we deserve the help we need to move forward.

This is hard. And with support, it’s possible.

This January, TOWARD HEALTH is offering health bootcamps for those who are ready to swim upstream with guidance, not struggle alone. Our bootcamps are led by coaches who have faced the same struggles and know what it takes to build lasting habits. You’ll find support, accountability, and practical tools to help you stay on track and finally feel like you’re moving forward.

Learn more and enroll here. Limited spots available.