The Evolution of Val

The other day, I was perusing my old laptop when I stumbled upon some college-era blog posts. Reading through them felt like time-traveling into the world of my younger self—a drama-filled, boy-crazy, party girl phase that I remember all too well. It's wild to think I’ve been blogging since 2004. Back then, I was writing on MySpace, convinced I was the next Puerto Rican Carrie Bradshaw.

Honestly, I’ve been journaling since middle school. (Yes, I even found those too.) One memory that still makes me laugh—though it definitely wasn’t funny at the time—was when my sister took my high school diary to the neighbor’s house and read it out loud. I was going through puberty and “discovering myself” (you know what I mean), and I thought that diary was a safe place to write about… certain experiences. Spoiler: it wasn’t.

Still, reading through those old entries made me proud. I’m in awe of how much I’ve grown. Some of the same thoughts and values are still with me, but the woman I am today is more grounded, more intentional. I think growth like this often starts after hitting some kind of rock bottom—a moment where you say to yourself, “I don’t want to be this version of me anymore.”

That moment came for me at 21. I won’t go into all the details—that’s a blog for another day—but I made a conscious decision to be better. And I stuck with it.

Life is a constant evolution. I truly believe we should always be learning, always growing. The last time I felt like I was spiraling, I found comfort in positive thinking and faith. And with those two things on my side, I know I won’t return to that place again.

My 20s were full of messy dating experiences, adulting lessons, and self-discovery. And honestly? I think my 30s are going to be fabulous. Maybe 10 years from now, I’ll look back and write “The Evolution of Val: Part II.” And I hope I’m still proud of the woman I continue becoming.

Growth: Becoming Who I Was Meant to Be

I’ve been struggling with what to write about lately. My blog has always revolved around my wild (and often hilarious) dating adventures, but now that I’m in a relationship—a really fulfilling one—the dating content just doesn’t resonate the same. Still, my passion for writing hasn’t gone anywhere. So I’ve asked myself: what now?

In the past few months, I’ve been going through a transformation—one that feels so overdue and so powerful. I used to think I was happy, and maybe I was, but now... now I feel fulfilled. There’s a difference. It’s not that I had it all wrong before—I always believed in treating people with respect and trying to stay positive. But I didn’t realize how much I was still holding on to, how much clouded my vision.

The shift came from a combination of things: discovering a church that speaks to me, reading books like The Secret and The Power of Now, and being in a supportive, emotionally safe relationship. All of it has helped me see how powerful it is to live life without anger and resentment weighing you down.

Here’s what I’ve learned: you’re only responsible for you. You can’t control other people’s actions, only your reactions. When you stop trying to control the narrative and just focus on being the best version of yourself, everything starts to shift. That doesn’t mean life becomes perfect—but it becomes clearer. Simpler. More intentional.

People ask me why I’m so patient, and the truth is... it’s because I’ve learned that unnecessary conflict is just that—unnecessary. If something’s out of your control, you can either accept it or resolve it. That’s it.

I’ve been through a lot in my early 20s. There was a time when I could have gone down a dark, destructive path—become that walking cliché of a girl with “daddy issues.” But I made a decision. I decided that my pain wouldn’t define me.

Forgiveness—something I wrote about recently—has been the hardest but most freeing part of that journey. How do you forgive someone who deeply hurt you? Because you must. Because their actions don’t define you. Your response does.

You’re not responsible for their choices. You don’t have to agree with what they did. But you do have to choose whether or not you’ll carry that pain forever. Forgiveness doesn’t mean what they did was okay. It just means you’re no longer letting it control you.

I believe every person I met while searching for love peeled back a layer of me. They showed me glimpses of the woman I could become—but I always knew deep down I was destined for more. And now, I’m finally stepping into that.

So yes, I’ll still be writing. Maybe not about dating disasters. But about growth. About healing. About what happens when you decide to love yourself more than your past.

Let’s see where this takes me...