candacerae.com

Welcome to my little corner of the web! I'm so excited you're here. This site is a work in progress, just like life. Stick around as I piece together stories, tips, and adventures—coming your way soon!

Tag: FamilyLife

  • Cancel Culture: The Social Isolation That No One Talks About

    Have you ever felt like your world was turned upside down overnight? One moment, you’re living your dream life—surrounded by friends, family, and community. The next, you’re left to pick up the pieces, feeling like an outsider in your own life.

    That’s how I felt when cancel culture hit our family, and it left me with more than just emotional scars. It left me questioning the very people I thought I could count on, and it made me realize just how much we take our social circles for granted.

    From Parties to Silence: The Sudden Shift

    One of the hardest things to cope with during this time wasn’t just the financial fallout or the upheaval in our daily life—it was the social isolation.

    You know those days when your house is the gathering spot for friends, where there’s always laughter, music, and the comfort of familiar faces? That was us. We had people over all the time, sharing food, drinks, and laughs. It was our way of staying connected. But when everything changed, so did those connections.

    It wasn’t just that friends stopped coming by. It was that they disappeared. We went from being surrounded by people to suddenly being completely alone. And that hurt more than anything else.

    The Social Death You Don’t See Coming

    When you’re in the middle of a crisis, the last thing you expect is to be abandoned by those closest to you. But that’s exactly what happened.

    It wasn’t even that they actively rejected us—it was that they ignored us. It was as if, overnight, we didn’t matter anymore. No check-ins. No calls. No visits. And in the moments when I needed to feel supported the most, I felt invisible.

    If you’ve ever experienced this type of social fallout, you know it’s like a kind of social death. You’re still physically here, but you’re erased. It’s a painful reality that no one really talks about.

    The Weight of Being Forgotten

    That kind of isolation is heavy. At first, I kept telling myself it was fine. I had to. I had no choice. But deep down, I was struggling to understand how easily people could walk away when times got tough. How quickly they could erase the bond you thought was strong.

    And in the silence, I realized something: We take community for granted. We lean on others for support, validation, and connection. But when that support is gone, it’s not just a loss of friendship—it’s a loss of identity.

    Rebuilding from the Ashes

    But as difficult as it was, the experience taught me something important. You can rebuild. It’s hard. It’s painful. But you have the power to put the pieces of your life back together.

    Therapy helped me unpack the trauma. I started to see the patterns of survival that had become my default mode. But healing isn’t a straight path—it’s messy. It’s not about “getting over” things but about learning how to move forward in a new way.

    To Anyone Feeling Lost: You’re Not Alone

    If you’re reading this and you feel like you’re walking through fire, surviving on autopilot, or questioning your place in the world: You’re not alone. Cancel culture can feel like a force you can’t control. But what you can control is your journey of healing.

    The road to recovery isn’t easy, and it’s certainly not linear. But each small step forward is a victory. You are worthy of peace. You are worthy of rebuilding your life, your relationships, and your happiness on your own terms.

    🌟 Remember, you’re stronger than you think, and it’s okay to stop and seek help along the way. Rebuild at your own pace, and know that you have the power to reclaim your peace—even when it feels impossible.

  • Rebuilding From the Inside Out

    Rebuilding From the Inside Out

    For years, I focused on gratitude, telling myself that if I could just stay positive, everything would be okay. But this year, something shifted. I began to feel the pain I had buried—how much I had been carrying, and all the ways I had ignored it just to keep moving forward.

    The year started with what I thought was the answer: a stable job that could help me tackle the debt from years of fighting a lawsuit. I liked the job. I loved my clients, and I found joy in client services. It felt like something I could do well.

    But I was exhausted.

    Waking up at 5 a.m. to drive Dave to work (we shared a car), getting my kids to school, and working a full day just to scrape by—it became too much. The exhaustion built up, and my health began to unravel. At the same time, I was grappling with anxiety attacks which I had never had before and a growing realization: I couldn’t keep living this way. Then, a family crisis hit. A loved one fell into addiction, and I became a caregiver for my niece—a role I desperately wanted to fulfill but felt unequipped for.

    I felt broken.

    I tried to fix it all. I quit drinking, changed my eating habits, and detoxed. But no matter what I did, nothing worked. The harder I tried to hold it all together, the more everything seemed to fall apart. I found myself in and out of hospitals, undergoing test after test.

    The results have been unsettling: a cyst on my liver, a heart with extra beats, endometriosis, and a compromised digestive system. My body was waving a giant red flag. Was this the wake-up call I needed to start to feel?

    I allowed myself to feel the sadness, the fear, and the anger. And oh, how angry I was. I stopped pretending I could handle everything on my own. I reached out for help and started therapy, knowing I needed to prioritize my healing.

    Admitting that I couldn’t do it all was hard. Writing this now feels incredibly vulnerable. But therapy taught me an important truth: when we disown our difficult stories to appear whole or acceptable, we lose the chance to grow. As Brené Brown says, “Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.”

    For years, I was too scared to share what was in my heart, terrified of judgment. Fear can be paralyzing, especially when you’ve lost your home, your possessions, and even relationships. 

    But I’m learning that while facing the truth is painful, it’s also the only way forward.

    So here I am, picking up the pieces and starting to rebuild. There’s no neat, tidy ending to this story—just the raw, messy process of self-discovery.