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For a while, I wasn't sure I'd ever write this post.A lot of people probably thought I disappeared this year.Honestly, I kind of did.Not because I wanted to.Not because I gave up.Life just hit me from every direction at once.After years of remission, my vasculitis came back.At the same time, my best friends graduated and moved away, I was trying to finish my master's degree, and all I wanted was to be home in Colorado.I was homesick.Exhausted.Sick.And trying my best to keep moving forward.So instead of writing, I got quiet.At least on here.Because the truth is, when life gets really hard, writing becomes difficult for me.Writing forces me to make sense of things.It forces me to put feelings into words.And when you're in the middle of something hard, sometimes putting those feelings into words makes everything feel even more real.So I stopped writing.But I didn't completely stop sharing.Instead, I think I started showing my life differently. One thing that kept me afloat this year was romanticizing my life.I know that sounds silly.But when your brain wants to focus on everything that's hurting, you have to intentionally look for the good.So I made my coffee.I watched sunsets.I took long walks.I found joy in small moments.I sat outside and had a picnic instead of sitting on my couch.I documented trips.I celebrated tiny wins.I made TikToks.Looking back, I don't think a lot of those videos were really about the places I was going or what I was doing.They were reminders to myself that there was still so much good around me.That life was still happening.That there were still things worth getting excited about.Even on the hard days, which honestly felt like most days this year.And through it all, I was still doing it.My own little reminder of how strong I am.I think one of the greatest gifts this year gave me was learning how to find the good, the happy, and the joy in each and every day, even when it felt impossible.And then there was Boots.My little sidekick.Literally.He basically went everywhere with me for a year.I had planned on getting him for a while, but honestly, I think he was sent to rescue me.Something bigger than me had planned for him long before I knew what this year would become.Long before I knew I would fall out of remission.Long before I knew how much I would need him.Looking back now, it feels like my guardian angel was putting pieces into place before I even knew they were needed.Because somehow, he arrived at exactly the right time.When I didn't want to get out of bed, he needed to go outside.When I wanted to stay home, he needed a walk.When I felt lonely, he was there.No expectations.No explanations.Just unconditional love.I thought I was bringing home a puppy.Instead, I got exactly what I needed.A daily reminder of the love, joy, and goodness that still exists all around us. The reality of chronic illness is that it comes with you everywhere.To class.To work.To dinner with friends.To the grocery store.To vacations.To every place you're trying so hard to show up.People see the moments.They don't always see what it took to get there.Waking up every morning feeling like you could still sleep another entire night.The stiffness.The fatigue.The headaches.The nausea.The body aches.The constant battles that show up without warning.There were days this year when just getting out of bed felt hard.Going to class felt even harder.Days when finishing my master's degree felt completely out of reach.But somehow, I kept showing up.One class.One assignment.One day at a time.I've never given up on my life, and I wasn't going to start now.And somehow, that degree got finished. Now, I'm finally settled back home in Denver.After two incredible trips with some of my favorite people in the world, I finally feel like I'm coming up for air again.I graduated.I came home.And for the first time in a long time, home actually feels like home.The mountains are outside my window.My family is close by.Boots is running around the house with his uncles, Cowboy and Rodeo.And life feels a little lighter.Not perfect.Just lighter. Today, June 1st, I start my summer job at a Montessori school.After that, I'll begin my first full-time teaching job at a private school here in Denver.The little girl who always wanted to be a teacher honestly wouldn't believe it.And neither would fourteen-year-old Annie, sitting in a hospital bed, wondering what her future would look like.This year humbled me.It slowed me down.It forced me to take care of myself in ways I never had before.But it also reminded me that hard seasons don't last forever.Sometimes your job is simply to keep going until you find your groove again.And I think I'm finally starting to find mine.June feels like a fresh start.For the first time in a long time, I'm starting to feel like myself again.

Finding my Groove Again.

I flew home last night from my friend reunion, one of those weekends where your heart feels full, your suitcase is a disaster, and you swear you’re going to drink a gallon of water and reorganize your entire life when you get back. Spoiler: I did not reorganize anything.I landed, grabbed my bags, and went to pick up dinner for me and my boyfriend, who had been watching Boots all weekend like the best person ever. I walked out of Eatzies feeling like I had my life together for exactly three minutes. I was going to go home, deep clean, eat my healthy dinner, and write this blog post (which I had planned to look verydifferent). But then… I lost my keys.Like actually lost them. Somewhere between checkout and the parking lot, they disappeared into another dimension.Next thing I know, I’m standing next to my locked car holding my Eatzies bag, calling my boyfriend like, “Heyyyy… so… funny story… can you come get me?”He had to pick me up AND our dinner, when I was trying to do a nice thing for him after he watched my dog all weekend. It was humbling in a way I can’t describe. I felt like the biggest disaster ever.This morning I returned to face the situation like the mature adult I pretend to be. I walked into Mazda ready to conquer the day. Instead, I spent hours waiting, arguing with technology, pacing around the lobby, and Googling things like:“Mazda key replacements?” “Why so expensive???” So with the help of my dad, we found a locksmith— half the price of the wild number Mazda gave me for a new key. So we said, “Yes!”Boots, loyal as ever, was in the car with me during the wait today. Just the two of us, stuck in a parked Mazda like we were filming our own reality TV show called Girl vs. Vehicle.I kept thinking, “This is ridiculous.” Then immediately, “This is so on-brand for my life.”&nbsp; But Here’s Where It Gets Real Somewhere between the flight, the lost keys, the boyfriend rescue, and the locksmith visit… I felt this weird sense of clarity. I decided I needed time to sit down and rewrite this blog post completely.This past year, the Year of the Snake, has been full of shedding, discomfort, my own health scares, family stuff, emotional ups and downs, confusion, and growth that felt like stretching a rubber band to its limit.It’s been a year of hard things. quiet struggles. Moments I didn’t talk about. A lot like losing your keys: invisible from the outside, chaotic on the inside.And now we’re stepping into the Year of the Horse, the year of motion, energy, getting unstuck, and finally running in the direction you’ve been preparing yourself for.What happened these last 24 hours somehow felt symbolic:Losing things Finding things Needing help Starting over Laughing at the absurdity Realizing I’m stronger, softer, and wiser than before &nbsp; So Here Is More of The Rowdy Story — The Real One Rowdy didn’t come from everything going right. Rowdy came from this: the chaos, the confusion, the moments that make no sense until later.Rowdy came from:growing up feeling different hospital rooms and quiet fear health struggles no one could see always feeling “off rhythm” trying to fit in a world not built for girls like me wanting desperately to feel understood learning to understand others deeply in the process Rowdy is the brand I needed at 14, 18, and honestly even yesterday — stranded with Boots and my bag of Eatzies.It’s for the girls who:are working through things no one knows about feel like their own type of glitch have big hearts and deep feelings were never meant to be watered-down versions of themselves deserve to take up space deserve to be seen Rowdy is the reminder that authenticity matters more than anything — that messy, real, imperfect people are the ones who shine the brightest.&nbsp; So Here We Are Now: February. My Month, My Shift, My Start Line. February has always been my month. It’s my birthday month, my love month, and this year it’s going to be my reset month. This February feels especially important.I’m stepping into the Year of the Horse with:new momentum a fire to create a heart that’s softer but stronger a brand that feels like purpose and a certainty that everything I’ve lived through is building toward something Even the lost keys. Even the locksmith bill. Even the chaos.If anything, it feels like a reminder:I’m ready to move. I’m ready to grow. I’m ready to build Rowdy into the space I’ve always needed, and the space so many of us are craving.Year of the Horse: INS Year of the Horse energy: movement, momentum, going after what I actually want Rowdy authenticity: creating from the heart, not the algorithm Slow mornings: coffee, light, breathing, grounding Letting people help me (yes, even when I lose my keys) Healthy routines: walking Boots, cooking, taking care of my body Deep conversations: real connections, real feelings Creative work: beads, color palettes, designs, storytelling Being seen: showing up as myself, even on chaotic days Soft strength: staying gentle without shrinking Choosing joy on purpose &amp; OUTS Doing everything alone Trying to be “perfect” instead of honest Feeling guilty for resting Minimizing my own story Ignoring my health or intuition People-pleasing (we’re done with that) Chaos without meaning: if it's chaotic, it better be symbolic Shrinking my feelings Forcing timelines: letting things unfold, not chase me Anything that makes me feel less RowdySo here’s to February. To love, to beginnings, to resilience, to Rowdy. To Boots, who just wanted to go on a car ride with his head flying out the window. And to the Year of the Horse, may it carry me exactly where I’m meant to go.

Year of the Horse

Sorry I am late, honeslty reflecting on 2025, that was a common theme, I am working on that as we speak. Anyways back to the pointt, this year asked more of me than I ever expected.It was a year of deep lessons, quiet heartbreaks, hard conversations, and moments where I had to look at myself honestly. It was a year that required shedding. Letting go. Releasing versions of myself that no longer fit, even when they once felt safe.In the language of the zodiac, it was the Year of the Snake and wow, did that symbolism hit home. Snakes shed their skin not because they want to, but because growth demands it. And that’s exactly what this year did to me. Old patterns, old roles, old doors, old identities—some closed gently, others slammed shut. Either way, they closed.And as painful as that was at times, I can see now that it was necessary.Because now, I’m stepping into the Year of the Horse.The Horse represents movement, freedom, momentum, confidence, and forward motion. It’s about trusting your instincts, running toward what lights you up, and choosing courage over comfort. This year isn’t about shrinking or second-guessing myself. It’s about being myself fully, unapologetically, and with intention.I’m done waiting for the “perfect” moment. I’m done doubting my creativity, my instincts, and my ability to build something meaningful. I’m done knocking on doors that were never meant to open for me.Instead, I’m building my own. Out of all the shedding came clarity and from that clarity, Rowdy by Reynolds was born.Rowdy is more than jewelry. It’s energy. It’s play. It’s individuality. It’s outdoorsy, artsy, nostalgic, a little wild, a little soft, and deeply personal. It’s inspired by nature, movement, friendship, freedom, and the idea that what you wear can carry meaning.This business feels like a leap and also like coming home to myself.I’m proud (and honestly a little emotional) to say that @rowdybyreynolds is officially live on Instagram. The website is coming soon and will live as a space for life with necklaces—stories, stacks, creativity, and connection. This is me choosing to trust my vision and jump, even without seeing every step ahead.This new chapter doesn’t erase the hard year that 2025 was, it honors it. Every closed door taught me something. Every ending redirected me. And every moment of uncertainty pushed me closer to what I’m building now.If you’re reading this and standing in a season of shedding, I hope you know this: growth is happening, even when it hurts. Clarity comes after release. Sometimes the bravest thing you can do is bet on yourself.Here’s to movement. Here’s to momentum. Here’s to the Year of the Horse. Here’s to thriving.With love, Annie

Shedding, Stepping Forward, and Choosing to Thrive

Becoming the Girl I’m Aiming to Be December always feels like a turning point for me, like the quiet pause before a new chapter. And I’ve felt this nudge lately… a whisper that says: “Slow down. Prioritize yourself. Come home to the things that make you you.”Living with chronic illnesses means I am constantly balancing healing with dreaming, rest with ambition, and the version of me today with the version I’m growing into. And honestly? I’m proud of her. I’m proud of how far she’s come—even the days when her energy is low or her body feels heavy.This month, I’m choosing to pour into the things that bring me joy, clarity, and confidence. The things that make me feel like me again.I’m choosing:Slow mornings with coffee instead of chaos. Walks when my body allows, not to “be productive,” but to breathe. Art, color palettes, Procreate doodles, and building Rowdy (a brand of my own I dream of having one day) even if it’s messy at first. Journaling instead of spiraling. Resting without guilt. Creating space for the girl I’m becoming, not the girl who’s rushing her way there. Chronic illness has taught me to take my life moment by moment, but it’s also taught me resilience. Creativity. Patience. Courage. And December is my month to let those parts shine.So if you’re reading this, especially my chronic illness girls, my GPA warriors, my “trying to find the joy again” friends:You’re welcome here. I’m building a community of people who are healing and growing at the same time, and I’d love for you to be part of it.Let’s spend December showing up for ourselves. Not perfectly. Not aesthetically. Just honestly, bravely, and with intention.Here’s to becoming the girl we are aiming to be. Even if we take the long way there.💛 Annie

Becoming the Girl I’m Aiming to Be

Being 20 is weird. You’re full of dreams and ideas, for me, maybe too many, and it’s hard when your heart is ready to start, but your head doesn’t quite know how. I’ve learned that wanting something deeply doesn’t always mean it’s time for it to bloom. Sometimes it’s still growing roots.For me, that “something” is Rowdy by Reynolds. It’s this mix of all my favorite things: color, creativity, Colorado energy, and the kind of grit that comes from starting small. I can see it so clearly in my head: the tees, the jewelry, the vibe. But seeing something in your mind and seeing it in real life are two totally different stages, and that space in between? That’s where the growth really happens.Lately, I’ve been reminding myself that it’s okay to move slowly. Things that are built with heart take time. I used to think that starting meant having it all figured out: a business plan, products, and a launch date. But now I know starting can look like sketching out an idea at midnight. It can look like talking about it out loud for the first time. It can look like trusting that small steps still count.Maybe “starting” isn’t about the launch at all, &nbsp;maybe it’s just about believing you’re capable even when it’s still messy because you are.I don’t have all the answers yet. But I have drive. I have a vision. And I have time, which I’m learning is not my enemy, but my secret advantage.So here’s to the in-between. Here’s to being young and unsure but brave enough to dream anyway. And here’s to letting things take the time they need to become something beautiful.Annie

Starting from Scratch

September came in hot. A hospital stay, procedures, endless tests, and rounds of doctors later, and yep, it was confirmed: my first known flare since remission. Truth is, I hadn’t been feeling great since early February: fatigue, joint pain, worsening cough, night sweats… all the “fun” things.Back in 2017, GPA went after my kidneys and sinuses, and by some miracle, my lungs stayed clear. This time around? My lungs decided to join the party. My sinuses and kidneys are holding steady for now, but the meds, infusions, and full treatment plan are back on the table. Déjà vu, anyone? Because for me, it feels a little too familiar, the timeline is almost identical to Round 1, with September once again being the big month of diagnosis and change.So here I am, sitting down on October 1st, choosing to claim this month as mine. October is the month I focus on me. October is the month I fight again, not because I want to, but because I can. And trust me, I will.It’s been a minute since I’ve written here. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could. It’s one thing to talk about resilience when life feels smooth, but when you’re thrown back into the storm? That’s a whole different level. It’s hard to stay positive. It’s hard to balance all the day-to-day things when you don’t feel well. Some days, it feels like a fight just to get through the basics.Here’s the truth: starting over sucks. I know the road, I know the meds, I know the fight, but that doesn’t make it any less heavy. What does make it lighter is sharing it. Writing. Connecting. Letting this story be more than just my own. Because if you’ve ever had to restart, at anything, you know it’s not weakness, it’s actually strength.So yeah, sorry I’ve been MIA, but I’m fine. Just know Prednisone Annie is officially back… so buckle up, because she’s got mood swings, midnight snack runs, and way too much energy at 2 a.m. to keep quiet for long. Let’s keep moving forward and continue this story together.

I'm Back

Annie Strong

My awesome life thriving through the everyday struggles of chronic autoimmune diseases. It will get better; I found my way. Maybe I can help you find yours?