staceybooks

April is Second Chance Month, a time to shine a light on redemption, renewal, and the idea that no one should be forever defined by their worst mistake. For those of us who have walked through fire and made it to the other side, this month means more than a calendar reminder. It’s personal. It’s sacred. It’s a reminder that grace is real, change is possible, and everyone deserves an opportunity to begin again.

In this space we often talk about helping others, lifting them up, guiding them toward healing, and showing them the way because we remember what it was like to feel forgotten. So we become the encouragers, the mentors, the cheerleaders for those still trying to climb out of the pit.

But sometimes we forget about ourselves.

Second chances aren’t just for them. They’re for us too. The truth is, you can’t keep pouring into others from a dry cup. You can’t guide someone through the storm if you’re barely holding on through your own. And yet, many of us keep doing just that—running on empty, giving everything we have until there’s nothing left for ourselves.

This month is a beautiful celebration of new beginnings, but let’s not mistake movement for healing. Helping others is powerful. It fuels something in us. But healing takes quiet moments. Time to rest. Time to reflect. Time to forgive ourselves for the times we got it wrong even after we promised we wouldn’t mess up again.

You can be a light for someone else and still need time in the dark to recharge. You can fight for someone else’s freedom and still be working on freeing yourself from the shame you carry. There is no contradiction in that. It’s just humanity.

So while we honor second chances this month for those behind bars, for those walking out the gates, and for those trying to piece together a life after the fall, don’t forget to honor your own journey. Give yourself grace. Pause when you need to. Cry if you have to. Breathe. Because your second chance matters too.

Helping others is part of your purpose, but healing yourself is part of your survival.

You’re not selfish for needing space. You’re not weak for needing rest. You are still worthy of the same compassion and care you so freely give to others. Let this month be both a celebration and a reminder that even the strongest among us need time to be held, heard, and healed.

Take care of them, yes. But don’t forget to take care of you.