Already Gone
I got the title of this post from a famous Kelly Clarkson song. I used to play it on repeat during the middle of a major fallout in my life.
2022 was a year from hell.
I was being severely mistreated at work.
My cousin died suddenly in a plane crash.
My brakes failed and I landed in the ER.
And while I was still trying to process all that, the girl I was lowkey dating ended things with me in the most brutal, cowardly way—ghosted me right when I needed someone most.
Even though I won a TV for a peer award—for going “above and beyond” for the customer—I was constantly reminded I wasn’t enough. My work ethic was weaponized against me. I kept showing up. Kept delivering. And kept getting cooked by managers and HR while pretending everything was fine.
I was doing all the right things: talk therapy, EMDR, ADHD support groups, improv classes. But underneath, I was just trying not to drown.
Ironically, the one person who really saw me was a customer.
She told me I should be CEO for the way I handled myself in that toxic place.
She called out what everyone else ignored: that I was holding shit together in a system that wanted to break me. Sadly, she took her own life two years later.
The company folded shortly after. That felt like cosmic justice.
The Seed That Grew in the Fire
During that time, I would disappear to a private room just to cry for fifteen minutes. I couldn’t even say my cousin’s name without falling apart. One day, I broke down so visibly, three coworkers came to check on me. I wasn’t hiding it anymore.
I didn’t know it then, but that season of breaking was planting something in me—
a seed I wouldn’t recognize until three years later.
The seed that would grow into the decision to return to Brazil.
I had already tried to leave once. I gave my two-week notice. I was ready to go.
But I let a director reel me back in with false promises.
I stayed. And the mistreatment continued.
But that voice inside me? It never shut up.
And eventually, I started listening.
Rebirth through Fire
Over the last year, I’ve gone through deep healing.
A full year of ketamine treatments.
A year of journaling.
A year of emotional release.
A year of integration with counselors.
A year of clearing out the bullshit I was never meant to carry.
During that same time, I was traumatized again—hit by a car in a store parking lot at my next job. And that moment snapped something into focus:
The Fernando who tolerated everything?
He’s dead.
The new Fernando?
He’s building freedom.
I’ve learned from the best in the game how to flip products, how to make money on my own terms, how to walk away when the environment is toxic.
I’m no longer trying to survive in someone else’s system.
I’m building my own.
The Return
Now I’m done missing Jiu Jitsu classes.
I’m done missing Festas Juninas.
I’m done missing life.
Brazil isn’t just where I’m going.
It’s who I’ve always been.
I didn’t realize it at the time, but that year of collapse gave me the push I needed to finally come home—to my body, to my truth, and eventually, to Brazil.
I was already gone.
Now I’m just catching up.
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