The End of a Chapter, Not the Story

What the actual hell was this week?!

I told y’all the moment I finally found some peace in my life, something was about to pop off. Well… look what the fuck I said. 😭

When I say I was pissed, I mean I was pissed all the way off.

I had this entire blog basically finished. All I had left to do was add the final touches and send it off for editing. I opened it up one last time and it was gone. Completely gone. Not in my drafts. Not hidden somewhere. Just disappeared without a trace.

At first I wanted to say forget it. I seriously considered ending the blog right there and taking my break early. I didn’t have it in me to start all over again.

But after I let myself be mad for a minute, something shifted.

Instead of letting my frustration take over, I let Spirit lead.

Maybe that version of the blog wasn’t supposed to be the one you read. Maybe it was written from the middle of the storm instead of from the wisdom waiting on the other side of it.

When I looked at it that way, I realized this whole situation reflected the biggest lesson I’ve learned throughout this entire season.

Not every emotion deserves an immediate reaction.

Sometimes the most powerful thing you can do is pause. Feel what you need to feel, then respond from the version of yourself that’s healed a little more than yesterday.

Turns out, losing my blog became the perfect way to begin this one.

Protecting My Peace

If these last eight months have taught me anything, it’s that peace doesn’t just magically show up one day. It’s something you choose over and over again, especially when every part of you wants to react.

I used to think protecting my peace meant staying quiet and letting things slide. I thought being the bigger person meant swallowing my feelings to avoid conflict.

Now I know better.

Protecting my peace means being intentional about where my energy goes. It means not responding just because someone expects me to. It means understanding that not every message deserves access to me, not every opinion deserves my explanation, and not every situation deserves my reaction.

Peace isn’t passive. Peace is discipline.

Sometimes protecting your peace looks incredibly boring. It looks like not replying. It looks like putting your phone down. It looks like letting people sit with the consequences of their own behavior instead of rescuing them from it.

That’s exactly where I’ve found myself lately.

There are so many moving pieces happening in my life all at once. My daughter is getting ready to spend the month of July with her dad, which means I’ll finally have a little time to slow down. Time to rest. Time to create.

As much as I’ll miss my sweet girl, I know this break is something I genuinely need.

Of course, co-parenting with a narcissist never seems to let anything happen peacefully.

The week before every visit, the messages start rolling in. The passive aggressive comments show up. The unnecessary tension builds. It’s almost like clockwork. It’s an attempt to pull me back into a cycle I’ve worked incredibly hard to break.

The difference is, it doesn’t work anymore.

Not because it doesn’t affect me. It absolutely does. I’m human. I still get frustrated. I still get angry. I still have moments where I want to match someone’s energy.

I just don’t live there anymore.

These days, if it isn’t directly about my daughter, it probably isn’t getting a response. If communication becomes confrontational, it goes straight through my lawyer.

That isn’t avoidance. That’s alignment.

A younger version of me would’ve spent hours defending herself, explaining herself, and trying to convince someone determined to misunderstand her.

This version of me simply protects her peace and keeps moving.

One thing I’ve learned is that peace doesn’t always feel peaceful in the beginning. Sometimes it feels uncomfortable because you’re breaking habits you’ve had for years. You’re choosing yourself in situations where you’ve always chosen keeping the peace for everyone else.

But eventually that discomfort becomes freedom.

And freedom is worth every uncomfortable boundary you have to set.

Mantra

“Peace is what I protect, not what I explain.”

Finding My Voice

Now let’s talk about the rage.

Because whew…My inner teenager has been fully activated this week, and she did not come to play.

Between drama, retrograde energy, my cycle creeping up, and people testing every boundary I’ve built over the last year, I have been fighting the urge to tell a few people exactly where they can go.

One thing I’ve realized is that some people mistake patience for permission. They mistake kindness for weakness. They mistake silence for someone who doesn’t have a backbone.

Baby…

No.

My throat chakra is open.

The difference is I don’t use my voice to explode anymore. I use it to protect myself.

I don’t over explain. I don’t beg people to understand my intentions. I don’t waste energy trying to convince emotionally unavailable adults to become emotionally mature overnight.

People are grown. They know what they’re doing. And if they don’t, that’s between them and their own healing journey.

Not mine.

I call my energy back. I wish them well from a distance. And I keep it pushing.

That’s one of the biggest shifts I’ve experienced this year. My voice isn’t louder than it used to be. It’s just clearer. I’ve stopped speaking to be heard by people who already decided not to listen.

Now I speak because I deserve to hear myself.

Mantra

“I stopped explaining myself to people committed to misunderstanding me.”

The Patterns I Refuse to Repeat

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned from surviving narcissistic dynamics is that words mean very little without consistent behavior.

People can promise you the world. They can apologize beautifully. They can tell you everything you’ve been hoping to hear. But if their actions never change, neither does the relationship.

Actions create patterns. Patterns reveal character. Time exposes everything.

That lesson didn’t just change the way I navigate co parenting. It changed the way I move through every relationship in my life.

I used to give people chance after chance because I believed in who they could become. I held onto potential longer than I held onto reality. I would explain away behavior, make excuses, and convince myself that if I just loved people a little harder or communicated a little better, things would eventually change.

Potential doesn’t build healthy relationships. Consistency does.

When someone shows me a pattern, I believe it. I don’t wait for another cycle to confirm what my intuition already knows. I don’t ignore red flags because someone had a good day. I don’t sacrifice my peace hoping someone else will suddenly become who they’ve never shown me they can be.

That one shift has saved me from so much unnecessary heartache.

The truth is, clarity usually isn’t something we’re waiting to receive. Most of the time it’s something we’re avoiding because we don’t like what we’ve already seen.

Once I started paying attention to behavior instead of intention, everything changed.

Confusion disappeared. The overthinking slowed down. My intuition got louder.

And for the first time in a long time, I trusted myself enough to walk away before I lost myself trying to make sense of someone else’s inconsistency.

Learning Myself in Real Time

If I’m being completely honest, my energy has felt heavy lately.

Not in a dramatic way. Not in a way that most people would even notice.

I still wake up. I still go to work. I still show up for my daughter. I still laugh, make jokes, and get through my days.

From the outside, everything probably looks the same. But I’ve learned that you can be functioning and still need rest.

One of my closest friends recently told me she can rarely tell when I’m struggling unless she happens to witness the moment it spills over. That really stuck with me.

For so much of my life, I’ve worn “being strong” like a badge of honor. I carried everything. I figured it out. I kept moving.

And while there is strength in that, I’ve also realized there’s a difference between being resilient and believing you have to carry everything alone.

I’m still learning how to let my emotions take up space instead of organizing them into silence.

I’m learning that resting doesn’t mean I’ve failed. Needing a break doesn’t mean I’m weak. Feeling overwhelmed doesn’t erase all the healing I’ve done. It just means I’m human.

Healing isn’t about reaching a place where life never gets heavy again. It’s about knowing how to care for yourself when it does.

Choosing Rest Without Guilt

In so many ways, this month feels divinely timed. For the first time in a long time, I’m being given space.

Not because everything in my life is suddenly perfect, but because life is reminding me that I deserve moments where survival isn’t the only thing on my schedule.

As much as I’m going to miss my daughter, I also know this month is an opportunity. An opportunity to slow down. To create because I want to, not because I’m rushing to squeeze it into the cracks of my day.

To spend time with myself. To take myself on little adventures. To sleep in if I want to. To sit by the beach with a book. To work out because it feels good instead of because I’m trying to fix something about myself. To romanticize my own life again.

I don’t want to spend this month performing. I don’t want to fill every empty space just because silence makes other people uncomfortable.

I want joy that doesn’t require recovery afterward. And I’m allowing myself to want those things without guilt. Because choosing myself isn’t selfish.

It’s necessary.

I’m realizing that the life I’ve been trying so hard to create isn’t somewhere waiting for me in the future. It’s something I build every single day through the choices I make now.

And I think that’s one of the most beautiful lessons this season has given me.

Eight Months of Becoming

What started as a place to organize my thoughts slowly became something much bigger than I ever expected. It became a record of my healing in real time.

You all didn’t just witness the highlights. You saw the heartbreak. The confusion. The setbacks. The moments I questioned myself. The moments I laughed through the chaos because sometimes that’s all you can do.

You watched me grieve versions of myself I thought I’d never let go of. You watched me set boundaries that once felt impossible. You watched me stumble, get back up, and keep choosing myself anyway.

Some weeks I wrote from softness. Some weeks I wrote from anger. Some weeks I wrote from hope. Some weeks I wrote through tears.

Every version of me deserved a place on these pages.

Looking back now, I realize I wasn’t just documenting my life. I was documenting my transformation.

Somewhere between the heartbreak, the therapy sessions, the spiritual rabbit holes, the disappointments, the boundaries, the laughter, the dreams, and the tears, I found pieces of myself I thought were gone forever.

I learned that peace is something I have to choose every single day. I learned that loneliness hurts less than abandoning myself. I learned that consistency will always matter more than potential. I learned that my intuition whispers long before reality screams. I learned that boundaries aren’t walls. They’re an act of self respect.

Most importantly, I learned that healing isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about returning to the woman you’ve always been underneath the survival. When I read back through my older blogs, I don’t cringe at the woman who wrote them.

I smile.

Because she was doing the best she could with what she knew at the time. She walked so this version of me could run. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

What I’m Leaving Behind

As this chapter closes, there are a few things I’m choosing not to carry into the next season of my life.

I’m leaving behind over explaining. I’m leaving behind chasing clarity from people committed to confusion. I’m leaving behind shrinking myself to make other people comfortable. I’m leaving behind staying in cycles that have already shown me how they end. I’m leaving behind believing it’s my job to save people who have no desire to save themselves.

Most of all, I’m leaving behind every version of me that believed love had to be earned. It doesn’t.

The right people will never require me to betray myself just to belong.

What I’m Taking Into Summer

This summer feels different.

Not because I have everything figured out, but because I finally trust myself even when I don’t.

I’m taking softness with me. I’m taking rest. I’m taking curiosity. I’m taking slow mornings and spontaneous adventures. I’m taking books I’ll probably cry over. I’m taking beach days. I’m taking movement that makes me feel strong instead of small. I’m taking laughter. I’m taking peace. I’m taking joy that doesn’t need permission.

And maybe…

Just maybe…

I’m leaving a little room for the unexpected. Not because I’m searching for something to complete me. But because I’ve finally become someone I enjoy sharing life with.

Whether that’s through new friendships, new experiences, or maybe even a love that feels safe instead of confusing, I’m no longer forcing what’s meant to flow.

Whatever finds me next will meet a woman who finally knows her worth.

Until Next Season

So this is where Season One comes to an end. Not because my story is over. But because this chapter is complete.

Eight months ago, I started writing because I needed somewhere to put all the thoughts that felt too heavy to carry by myself.

Week after week, this blog became a place where I could be messy, honest, funny, angry, hopeful, and completely human.

It became proof that healing isn’t linear. It became proof that growth doesn’t happen all at once. It became proof that becoming the woman you’re meant to be often looks a lot like losing the woman you’ve outgrown.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped writing from survival. I started writing from self awareness. From acceptance. From peace.

And maybe that’s the biggest plot twist of all. This summer might be filled with solo adventures. It might surprise me with opportunities I never saw coming. It might even bring love one day.

Who knows?

I’m not trying to control what’s next. I’m simply making room for it.

If you’ve been here since the beginning, thank you. Thank you for celebrating with me. Thank you for crying with me. Thank you for laughing at my unhinged moments. Thank you for reminding me that vulnerability has a way of making complete strangers feel like friends.

I hope somewhere in these last eight months, you’ve seen pieces of your own story reflected in mine.

If you have, then every vulnerable word was worth writing.

I’m walking into this next season with a full heart, stronger boundaries, a softer spirit, and a deeper love for the woman I’m becoming.

And I have a feeling she’s just getting started.

I’ll see you next season.

With all my love,

Your favorite self loving, earthy, spiritual, slightly emo, sparkle loving hippie girl. 🤍

Protecting the Peace I Prayed For

Learning How to Sit in Peace

I keep talking about the peace and balance that my life has right now. Honestly, for the first time in almost four years, there is peace.

And this week that peace made me uncomfortable.

I’m beyond grateful for how far I’ve come and how hard I’ve worked to get to this point. But when you’ve spent so much time living in survival mode where there’s constant chaos, drama, and a literal war within yourself, peace can feel unfamiliar.

Sometimes I catch myself waiting for the next disaster. Almost anticipating that something will go wrong so I can say, “Yep, there it is. It was too good to be true.”

It’s strange because I’ve spent years praying for this level of peace. Yet now that it’s here, part of me doesn’t quite know what to do with it.

I think that’s because chaos used to feel normal. Fighting battles used to feel normal. Being in a constant state of fixing, healing, surviving, and pushing through felt normal.

Peace doesn’t ask me to fight.

Peace asks me to sit still.

Peace asks me to trust.

Peace asks me to stop looking over my shoulder waiting for something bad to happen.

I have another week before my daughter leaves to visit her dad and honestly, I think the timing is divine. This inner teenager and young adult version of me that once thrived off chaos isn’t getting fed that way anymore. So now I’m being forced to face her head on.

I don’t know exactly how this season is going to unfold but I can feel something shifting. It’s happening a lot faster than I expected.

The Messages in My Dreams

Something else that’s been really significant for me lately has been my dreams.

I’ve talked about it here before but dreaming is one of my spiritual gifts. My dreams are vivid and more often than not they end up being prophetic.

Lately I’ve been having a lot of relationship themed dreams.

I’ve had dreams warning me about people from my past trying to reenter my life. I’ve had dreams showing me the energy and intentions behind certain connections. I’ve also had dreams about my future and glimpses of what partnership could look like for me one day.

It’s fascinating to experience the past, present, and future all within the dream world.

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that sometimes people appear in my dreams wearing the faces of people I know in my waking life. It doesn’t necessarily mean it’s that exact person. Sometimes the dream is using a familiar face because that person represents a lesson, an energy, or a feeling that my subconscious recognizes.

The dream world has been very active lately.

I’ve also learned not to take every dream too literally. Not every warning requires action and not every glimpse of the future requires me to rush ahead.

The gift of knowing isn’t always about doing.

Sometimes it’s simply about receiving.

Sometimes it’s about paying attention.

And if action is required, it’s about preparing instead of trying to force, fix, or control an outcome.

For now, I’m choosing to trust what comes through and allow it to unfold in divine timing.

Calling My Energy Back

More than anything, I feel like I’m in a season of calling my energy back.

Back from people.

Back from situations.

Back from expectations.

Back from places and things that no longer serve me.

As I continue to grow in my healing journey and deepen my spiritual practices, I know I’m protected and prayed up. But that doesn’t change the fact that I don’t have control over the people around me. And honestly, I don’t want that kind of control.

What I can control is how much access people have to me.

I’m learning the art of detachment.

I’m learning how to create space without guilt.

I’m learning that boundaries aren’t punishment. They’re protection.

There is only one thing in this life that I can control and that’s me. So when people show me who they are more than once, I believe them and move accordingly.

I don’t like when people make me be mean. Truthfully, I wouldn’t even call it being mean because being mean takes too much energy and I don’t have time for that.

What I will do is call my energy back.

I will create distance.

I will remove access.

I will choose myself.

I think people get upset when you stop participating in unhealthy dynamics. They get uncomfortable when you no longer tolerate the behavior they’ve grown accustomed to giving you.

But that’s not my responsibility.

I saw the pattern.

I acknowledged the behavior.

I made a decision that was best for me.

That’s not being mean.

That’s being self aware.

That’s choosing peace.

I’ve spent too much of my life living in survival mode to willingly return to environments that leave me feeling drained, anxious, or emotionally unsafe.

Even with the people I care about the most, I can’t choose them over me.

As much as I may love someone or desire a connection with them, if things aren’t being reciprocated, if growth isn’t happening, or if I find myself carrying the weight of the relationship alone, I have to step back and allow people the space to figure themselves out.

This season is teaching me that choosing myself isn’t selfish.

It’s necessary.

I worked too hard for this peace not to protect it.

A Season of Rest

Part of protecting my peace has been recognizing where I need rest.

And honestly, I think that includes this blog.

As much as I love writing and as hard as I’ve worked to make this dream a reality, it’s still a labor of love. It takes time to figure out what I want to say, organize my thoughts, edit everything, and make sure I’m sharing from a healthy place.

I have people who reach out every week with feedback. I have readers who genuinely look forward to these blogs. And then there are the silent readers and watchers who tune in regularly and I have absolutely no idea who they are.

That’s the nature of creating online.

Sometimes it’s beautiful.

Sometimes it’s overwhelming.

Lately I’ve been wondering if I need a break.

Not because I don’t love this space but because I want to honor the season I’m in.

Maybe I take the summer off and call it the end of Season One.

Maybe I come back in the fall with fresh experiences, fresh lessons, and a fresh perspective.

I’m not entirely sure yet.

What I do know is that Spirit has never led me wrong. So whatever decision I make, I trust it will be the right one for this chapter of my life.

Why Does This Always Happen?

Now for the funny part.

It’s always interesting to me that every single time I decide to focus on myself, the universe sends men.

Without fail.

The second I say, “You know what? Let me pour into myself. Let me focus on my healing. Let me mind my business,” suddenly everyone wants access.

I get asked out.

I get messages.

I get approached.

I get flirted with.

And honestly, I’ve been keeping to myself more than ever.

I don’t really entertain people these days. I’m very transparent about where I am in life. I can tell pretty quickly when someone is operating from lust and not genuine interest.

One of my favorite questions to ask is, “Why do you want to go out with me?”

The answer usually tells me everything I need to know.

And once I have my answer, I continue my walk with Christ. Me and Christ alone, lol.

The funniest part is that this doesn’t just happen outside of work.

It happens at work too.

Sir, I am looking my absolute worst right now. Running around. Trying to get through my day. And somehow you’re still shooting your shot.

The young ones.

The older ones.

The healthy and the sick ones.

Nobody has any shame in their game.

I respect the confidence. I truly do.

But the answer is still no. Respectfully.

The answer is no for now. Because in this season, my focus isn’t on who wants access to me.

My focus is on making sure I deserve access to myself.

Asé.

Closing Mantra:

“I call my energy back from every place it no longer belongs and return it to myself with love.” ✨🖤

Healing the Girl Who Needed Answers

The Return of My Inner Teenager

WOW. This week has been… eh. I love it and hate it all in the same breath. Before I get into the tea, let me start with the good.

I honestly don’t know what came over me this week, but the nostalgia has been strong. Like, healing my inner teenager strong. And yeah, this is new for me.

The last few years have been all about healing my inner child. The people pleaser. The perfectionist. The version of me that desperately wanted to be seen, heard, chosen, and loved. The version of me that abandoned herself in exchange for validation and approval, especially from my family. Those wounds became the foundation for so many of the choices I made throughout my life. Choices rooted in fear of abandonment, fear of rejection, and the belief that I had to earn love.

I’ve done a lot of work to acknowledge those parts of myself. I’ve learned to accept them without shame and make the conscious choice that I no longer want to live from those wounds.

Like I talked about in my previous blog, life has actually been pretty damn good lately. Nothing dramatic has happened. Instead, a different layer of healing has made itself known.

The teenage version of me has arrived.

I had no idea how loud, bold, dramatic, and unapologetic she was until she started knocking on the door of my subconscious. It feels like the floodgates opened. Suddenly I’m listening to music I loved in high school. I’m posting about Paramore every five minutes. I’m deep in my Twilight obsession again. Well, let’s be honest, did I ever really stop?

A month ago I talked about stepping into a softer version of my femininity. At the time, I thought femininity meant softness, pink, romance, and all things girly. Lately I’ve realized there is so much more to me than that. There’s an edge to me. A darkness. A fascination with things that are mysterious and unconventional.

Now it’s fully here.

I’m back watching horror movies. I’m rediscovering the things I loved before I started filtering myself for other people. The things that made me feel different. The things that made me feel like me.

“Healing isn’t becoming someone new. Sometimes it’s remembering who you were before the world told you to edit yourself.”

Learning to Hold Every Version of Myself

I think by the time I got to high school there were always two versions of myself. The soft romantic girl and the slightly emo, edgy girl who loved spooky things and lived for a good vampire story.

For the longest time I felt like I had to pick one.

Now I realize I don’t.

I can be both.

I can wear pink and still love horror movies. I can be soft and nurturing while also being bold and outspoken. I can embrace every version of myself without worrying about how it comes across to anyone else.

That’s what healing has given me.

The freedom to take up space exactly as I am.

The freedom to stop abandoning pieces of myself just to fit into certain rooms.

Lately, I’ve been realizing that I don’t fit neatly into one box, and honestly, I don’t want to. I’m an earthy, spiritual, hippie soul who talks to the moon, believes in signs from the universe, and finds comfort in nature. At the same time, there’s still a slight emo girl living inside me who romanticizes rainy days, nostalgic playlists, and feeling things deeply. Then, of course, there’s the sparkle girlie in me who loves getting her nails done, wearing something cute, and embracing her soft, feminine energy. Somehow all of those versions coexist. The earthy spiritual hippie, the emotional depth of the emo girl, and the glitter-loving feminine woman all make up who I am. None of them cancel each other out—they create the beautifully layered person I’ve become.

The Friendships That Still Feel Like Home

The other thing that’s been filling my cup lately has been reconnecting with old friendships.

This week I got to spend time with some friends from high school and it was amazing. When you spend your teenage years riding a bus for over an hour every day, you’re bound to collect stories, drama, laughter, and friendships that stay with you forever.

Even though we don’t see each other often, it always feels like no time has passed.

I love relationships like that.

Life happens. Some of us have kids. Some of us don’t. Some of us travel. Some of us are completely different people than we were ten years ago. Some of us are surprisingly the same.

All of it is valid.

What I appreciate most is being able to come together and share the difficult parts of life along with the beautiful ones. To witness each other healing, growing, and evolving in our own ways.

Funny enough, I’ve been saying for months that I needed to get out more and reconnect with people. Then out of nowhere, one of my best guy friends from high school came back into my life.

Life has a funny way of answering prayers.

It’s reminded me that if I’m asking for deeper friendships and stronger community, I have to be willing to nurture those relationships too. I have to be the kind of friend I’m hoping to receive.

The Tea: Learning to Want Without Chasing

Now for the tea.

And don’t do too much because yes, I know what I said back in February.

I’ve been holding strong.

No dating apps. No entertaining nonsense. No setups. No distractions. Let’s just say I’ve been sober from men for a few months now.

But there is this guy.

And no, I’m not going into too much detail because this blog isn’t really about him.

What I will say is that he is absolutely my type. Like, embarrassingly my type. The kind of fine that makes you question whether you’re being spiritually tested.

But what surprised me wasn’t the physical attraction.

It was the curiosity.

The more I’ve interacted with him, the more I’ve found myself interested in who he is beneath the surface. Interested in his layers. Interested in understanding what experiences shaped the version of him that exists today.

For the first time in a long time, I feel open to welcoming a romantic connection into my life.

Not because I need someone. Not because I think someone will complete me.

But because I’ve reached a point where my life feels stable, peaceful, and full enough to share it.

The reality is I don’t know what this connection is meant to be. Maybe there’s something there. Maybe there isn’t. Maybe our timing isn’t aligned. Maybe he’s simply not in a place to meet me where I am.

And honestly, that’s okay.

I’ve spent enough of my life trying to force outcomes. Trying to predict endings before stories had the chance to unfold.

I don’t want to do that anymore.

“I can hold desire in one hand and peace in the other.”

The Beauty of Not Knowing Yet

What I know is that I respect someone’s healing journey just as much as I respect my own. I know what it feels like to need time, space, and room to figure things out.

I can recognize what I feel without needing to control where it goes.

There was a time when uncertainty would have consumed me. I would have searched for answers, overanalyzed every interaction, and convinced myself that not knowing was some kind of emergency.

Now I’m learning how to sit with possibility.

Do I want more? Absolutely.

Do I know what will happen? Not at all.

But for the first time, not knowing doesn’t scare me.

Because my life is already full.

My friendships are growing. My fitness journey is taking off. I’m seeing changes in myself physically and emotionally. I’m creating. I’m healing. I’m building community.

And in a few short weeks I’ll have an entire month to do whatever my heart desires. More adventures. More side quests. More opportunities to pour into myself.

Maybe that’s what this season is really about.

Not finding all the answers.

Not forcing a relationship.

Not chasing certainty.

Maybe it’s simply about trusting myself enough to enjoy where I am while allowing the future to reveal itself when it’s ready.

Closing Mantra

I release the need to rush what is still unfolding. I can desire more without abandoning myself in the process. What is meant for me will arrive in its own time, and until then I will continue building a life that feels beautiful, meaningful, and full. My heart is safe in the unknown.

“For the first time in my life, I want something deeply without trying to control it.”

Still Soft, Still Unreachable

Softness Without Access

There is something almost unsettling about peace when chaos has been your normal for so long.

Lately I have caught myself looking around wondering if I am forgetting something. This is the first time in my life where there is genuinely no major chaos happening around me. And now that I have said that, watch some wild shit happen tomorrow.

I’m joking.

Well…mostly.

But seriously, it feels strange. For the first time in a very long time, I do not wake up feeling constantly on edge. I do not feel like I am waiting for the next disaster, the next lesson, the next heartbreak, or the next problem to solve.

I have found a rhythm in my healing journey.

A groove.

A place where I finally feel like I am applying everything I have learned over the last few years instead of constantly searching for more answers. There was a season where I felt like I needed another book, another podcast, another spiritual practice, another breakthrough. I was always searching for the thing that would finally help me break the cycle.

Now I realize that the lesson is not always in learning more. Sometimes the lesson is in applying what you already know.

This peace feels like part of the blessing that comes from bringing old cycles to completion.

Standing on Business

I am not going to sit here and pretend everything in my life is perfect.

There are still areas where I am very much in the testing phase. The difference is that now I can see the tests for what they are.

Life keeps placing situations in front of me that ask a simple question.

Are you actually healing?

Or are you just going through the motions?

It is one thing to talk about boundaries. It is another thing to enforce them.

It is one thing to talk about self worth. It is another thing to choose yourself when it matters.

It is one thing to talk about healing. It is another thing to apply those lessons in real time.

Recently I saw a quote that said, “My legs are sore from all the business I’ve been standing on.”

And honestly?

That is exactly the type of time I am on.

I said what I was going to do and now I am doing it.

Not talking about it. Not announcing it. Not threatening it. Just doing it.

Making Prayer a Lifestyle

One thing I know I need to do more of right now is journal.

The energy around me feels different. It feels elevated. It feels like something beautiful is preparing to unfold and I want to be present enough to document it.

Not everyone understands this part of my journey. Some experiences are difficult to explain unless you have lived them yourself. That is why journaling has become such a sacred space for me.

It allows me to release my thoughts, track my growth, and witness my evolution in real time.

At the same time, I have found myself leaning even deeper into prayer.

Not just when I need something.

Not just when life gets hard.

Not just when I am asking God to fix a problem.

I recently came across a clip of Lauren London talking about how she includes prayer throughout her entire day. It resonated with me because that is exactly how my relationship with God has evolved.

Thank you for waking me up. Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for guiding me. Thank you for another opportunity to grow.

Prayer has become part of the small moments. The everyday moments. The ordinary moments.

Of course there are still times for deep prayer and spiritual warfare. There are moments that call for getting on your knees and surrendering everything.

But there is also beauty in simply acknowledging God throughout the day.

Inviting Him into every step.

Every decision. Every blessing. Every challenge.

Before my feet hit the floor in the morning and before my thoughts have a chance to take over, I pray for peace, protection, guidance, and gratitude.

Not because I need something.

But because God is part of my everyday life.

The Gift of Peace

The other day a friend asked me what was new in my life.

For the first time ever, I answered honestly.

Nothing.

And I meant it. There is no drama. There is no chaos. There is no man stressing me out. My life feels balanced.

Peaceful.

Grounded.

Even motherhood feels different these days.

It is still motherhood. It is still challenging. But my daughter and I have found a groove that feels natural and healthy.

Somewhere along the way I stopped believing that I always needed to be fixing something.

I stopped believing I always had to be doing something. I allowed myself to rest. To enjoy. To be present. To acknowledge how far I have actually come.

I worked hard for this peace.

I cried for this peace.

I prayed for this peace.

I healed for this peace.

So when tests appear, I apply the lesson and move on. I do not entertain bird behavior. I will continue choosing peace. I will continue choosing myself. I will continue protecting the life I worked so hard to build.

Leaving Room for Love

As beautiful as this season has been, I would be lying if I said there were no desires left in my heart.

There is still a part of me that longs for companionship. There is still a lover girl living inside of me. Not because I need someone to complete me. Not because I am lonely. But because there is something beautiful about sharing your life with someone who understands your heart.

Someone who can hold space for your truth. Someone who can witness your growth and allow you to witness theirs. The message I continue receiving about my love life is simple. The right person will come at the right time. I do not need perfection. I do not expect a man to arrive fully healed because I am not fully healed either.

Healing is a lifelong journey. What matters is awareness. What matters is accountability. What matters is the willingness to grow.

A trying man will always be more appealing than a man who refuses to look at himself.

The older I get, the more I realize that some of our greatest lessons are learned in community, friendship, and partnership.

Growth is not always a solo journey.

Sometimes healing happens when another person chooses to meet you with honesty, grace, and love.

Staying Soft

I think many of us who desire love have been hurt enough to understand why people build walls.

We have experienced disappointment, betrayal, heartbreak, and grief.

Sometimes it becomes difficult to trust whether someone’s intentions are genuine because life has taught us to expect the worst.

But every time I choose to put myself out there, I do so with confidence in the work I have done.

I trust myself.

I trust my discernment.

I trust my healing journey.

I know I will attract a love that adds to my life rather than asks me to abandon myself. I have worked too hard to become whole on my own. Too many tears have been cried to get here. And because of that, I refuse to allow my experiences to make me cold.

Protective?

Absolutely.

Discerning?

Always.

But hardened?

Never.

I could never intentionally walk into someone’s life carrying unresolved wounds and leave destruction behind because I refused to heal.

That is not who I am. And it never will be. I want a love that allows me to feel soft. A love that feels safe. A love that exists in balance.

Until then, I will continue becoming the woman capable of receiving it.

I will continue creating a life so full that any future relationship comes from overflow rather than lack.

Because love should never require me to empty my cup.

The right love will meet me where I am and bring its own cup too.

Until then, I choose peace.

I choose growth.

I choose gratitude.

And above all else, I choose myself.

“The woman I prayed to become finally arrived.”

The Courage to Be Seen

There is something really interesting about looking back and realizing that we create the life we desire one small choice at a time.

Sometimes I have to sit back and think, damn, I really came far from where I was a year ago. Two years ago. Even five years ago.

I think that is the ugly truth about hitting rock bottom. It feels devastating while you are living through it. It feels unfair and exhausting. Yet somehow, when enough time passes, you can finally see the growth that came from it. You can see the blessings that slowly replaced what was once missing. The beauty is not that you suffered. The beauty is that you kept going long enough to see what was waiting on the other side.

Choosing Myself

I think for the summer I will be taking a break from my blog.

For the entire month of July I am child free. No extra shifts. No running myself into the ground. Just me, myself, and I with my regular Monday through Friday schedule. Bills still need to be paid of course, but this season feels different.

Usually when I have extra time I fill every available space with work. I pick up more shifts. I stay busy. I convince myself that productivity is rest.

Not this time.

This summer I want to slow down enough to be intentional with myself. I want an extended period of time where my only responsibility is taking care of me. Pilates and yoga are definitely on the itinerary, but so is fun. I want to continue my little side quest summer. I want to explore. I want to say yes to random adventures. I want to do as much or as little as I feel called to do.

For once, I do not want every moment to be productive.

I want some of it to simply be beautiful.

As much as I am going to miss my mini me, Mama is tired. And if there is one thing I know, it is that she carries herself well wherever she goes.

The stress, fear, and anxiety I used to feel around visits has softened with time. I had to choose peace within myself. I had to trust God enough to keep my baby safe wherever she is.

I have also learned that she has her own journey to walk.

Her own experiences. Her own lessons. Her own cycles to break.

I am not here to possess her or mold her into who I think she should become. I am here to guide her. To love her. To protect her. To provide for her. To create a safe place for her to return to while she discovers who she is.

Leaving Isolation

Sometimes I have to remind myself that I am only now coming out of isolation.

For years I sat in my own bubble consuming everything I could about healing, spirituality, wellness, relationships, friendship, and breaking generational cycles. There were so many nights where it was just me and God trying to make sense of the pain.

Healing often happens in private.

It happens in the quiet.

It happens in the moments nobody sees.

It is crying in your room and asking God to remove the hurt. It is carrying resentment, anger, grief, and disappointment for years until you finally find somewhere safe to put it down.

But eventually there comes a point where healing is no longer meant to happen alone.

Eventually there needs to be community.

There needs to be connection.

There needs to be people who show up for you the same way you have learned to show up for yourself.

In a world full of people, being truly seen is still rare.

Different Journeys, Different Timelines

One thing I have had to come to terms with is that not everyone is on the same healing journey as me.

Even deeper than that, not everyone is moving at the same pace.

I have met people who are earlier in their journey than I am. I have met people who are much further ahead. Yet regardless of where someone is, I try to offer the same level of respect, understanding, and grace.

I think we all deserve that.

I do not believe people need to earn softness.

I do not believe people need to be perfect before they are worthy of compassion.

The older I get, the more I realize that everyone is carrying something.

The Courage to Be Seen

Lately I feel like I have been presented with the same lesson in different forms.

I show up for people with patience. I allow them the space to reveal themselves through their actions. I let them be exactly who they are.

But I have noticed something.

Most people want to be admired.

Very few people want to be fully seen.

We all have a version of ourselves that we present to the world. The polished version. The version that feels safest. But that only holds my attention for so long.

I crave depth.

I want to understand why someone is the way they are.

I want to know what shaped them.

What broke them.

What healed them.

What they are still learning to forgive themselves for.

I love having the opportunity to truly see someone. Not the performance. Not the image. The person. And sometimes that scares people. Being seen at a depth that nobody has reached before can feel terrifying.

Truthfully, it scares me too.

I am still meeting new versions of myself every day. There are still layers of me that I am learning to understand and accept. So often we think we are afraid of rejection. But I wonder if sometimes we are actually afraid of acceptance. Afraid of someone seeing all of us and deciding to stay. Afraid of receiving the very thing we have been asking for because it feels unfamiliar.

After enough disappointment, healthy love can feel more uncomfortable than heartbreak. Being understood can feel more vulnerable than being misunderstood. Being cared for can feel more frightening than being neglected. Not because we do not want those things. But because they require us to stop surviving long enough to receive them.

Let People Be Who They Are

Fear has a way of keeping us in familiar places. Even when we know there is something better waiting. I never try to push my way of life onto anyone. I never try to convince people to think the way I think or heal the way I heal. I simply allow people to be who they are. And then I decide how much access they have to my life.

When I choose to let someone in, I let them be themselves.

No fixing. No forcing. No controlling. Just space.

Because love, friendship, and connection were never meant to be about changing people.

They are about seeing people clearly and choosing accordingly.

And maybe that is where peace lives.

Not in controlling who people become.

But in accepting who they already are.

Closing Mantra:

What is meant for me will never require me to chase it. I move with intention, openness, and grace. I trust myself enough to ask for what I want and trust life enough to meet me halfway. I am no longer shrinking, proving, or pursuing. I am becoming. What is aligned with me will recognize me, choose me, and find me with the same certainty that I am finding myself.

The Beauty in Stillness

The Quiet I Needed

These last few weeks have surprisingly been uneventful. Knowing me, there is always something going on, some type of chaos pulling at my attention. But the silence around me lately has nudged me to check in with myself. The stillness feels like a gentle reminder to finally do the things I said I was going to do but kept putting off because I was too busy, too distracted, or too tired to pour back into myself.

Being intentional with myself and my time has always been important to me. As the seasons shift, I can feel the shift happening within me too. I want to nourish what genuinely feeds my soul instead of constantly surviving through the motions of life.

Trusting the Process

There are a few things I’m working on quietly in the background, and for once, I’m allowing myself to enjoy the process instead of obsessing over the outcome. I’m learning to appreciate the buildup of something aligned with my path and purpose.

There have been so many moments in my life where I prayed for something so intensely that once I finally received it, I wasn’t fully prepared to hold onto it. This season feels different. I want to make sure that when these blessings unfold into the physical, I have the capacity to receive them, maintain them, and continue evolving alongside them.

I no longer want temporary manifestations. I want alignment that lasts.

Releasing the Need to Control Everything

It feels nice, honestly, to not constantly be operating in survival mode. I’m not moving from a place of lack, desperation, or fear anymore. Deep down, I truly believe that what is meant for me will always find its way to me, even if it doesn’t happen in the timing or form I imagined.

I always say “let go and let God,” but putting that into practice is not always easy. Sometimes we hold onto expectations so tightly that we forget how to simply accept things for what they are instead of forcing them into what we want them to be.

These past few weeks have taught me how to surrender a little more.

Growth Is Measured in the Way You Respond

Whenever I find myself in uncomfortable situations, I know there is usually a lesson attached to it. Discomfort is not always punishment. Sometimes it’s simply life pushing you outside of the comfort zone you’ve settled into.

Is it frustrating sometimes? Absolutely. Annoying? Of course. But shifting my perspective has taught me so much about myself. Real growth is not proven in peaceful moments. It’s revealed when life presents you with familiar triggers and you respond differently than you once would have.

Things, people, and situations will always trigger something within you. The question is how you choose to navigate through it. That is where the truth of healing lives.

No one is ever fully healed. No matter how many years they’ve been on the journey. Healing is not a final destination. It is a continuous evolution of self.

Love, Light, and Boundaries

The life I choose to live has always been rooted in evolution. That’s exactly why my name is Evolvewithnelle. I know for a fact I’m not the same person I was even a year ago.

My healing journey has evolved too. At one point, I viewed healing as only love and light, positivity, peace, and softness at all costs. While those things will always exist at my core, I’ve learned that balance matters. There is duality in everything.

There is light, but there is also shadow. There is softness, but there is also strength.

Sometimes healing looks like choosing peace. Other times healing looks like telling people to leave you alone and stop playing with you. Sometimes growth means finally recognizing when people intentionally misunderstand you because they can no longer manipulate you.

And honestly, it has been empowering to witness myself stand up for myself in ways I never used to.

Do not mistake my softness for weakness. I can choose love and still refuse disrespect. I can protect my peace without creating war. I now understand how to call my energy back from anything that no longer serves me.

Rediscovering Joy

This season of my life is also about learning how to enjoy the little things again.

I spent so many years focused on healing, shadow work, lessons, and survival that somewhere along the way I forgot what it felt like to simply experience joy without needing it to teach me something.

I want to laugh more. I want to feel free. I want to experience people, opportunities, and moments without constantly analyzing what lesson is attached to them.

Not everything has to be a battle. Not everything has to be heavy.

This season is teaching me patience too. Some things unfold in their own timing, and part of truly living is not always knowing exactly how everything will turn out. We are not supposed to know every detail of the story before it happens.

That uncertainty used to terrify me because I always wanted control over every outcome. But I’m finally learning that allowing things to come and go naturally is one of the most beautiful parts of life.

This is all part of the plot. The character development. The setup for the next chapter.

Closing Thoughts

Stillness and peace are unfamiliar to me, which is exactly why letting go can feel so difficult sometimes. But the difference now is that I’m aware of it. I can recognize when I’m becoming overwhelmed, triggered, or trying to control things that were never mine to control in the first place.

And honestly, isn’t that what healing and growth are really about?

Closing Mantra:

I no longer chase chaos to feel alive.
I trust what is meant for me.
I honor both my softness and my strength.
I release control and welcome alignment.
I am evolving, growing, and becoming more myself with every season.

The Lesson Keeps Repeating Until You Learn

Why Does It Feel So Heavy?

Every time I beg God to give me a break, it feels like He doubles down on me instead.

The moment I feel like I finally have a grip on my journey, my purpose, my relationships, my work life, or my emotions, something comes along to shake the table again. It feels like there are lessons coming from every direction all at once.

But maybe that is the lesson.

Maybe growth is not supposed to feel comfortable.
Maybe healing is not just isolation and journaling and praying.
Maybe healing is also being placed back into rooms with people who test your patience, test your boundaries, test your throat chakra, and test whether you are truly going to stand up for yourself this time.

Because how else are we supposed to grow unless life gives us opportunities to apply what we claim we learned?

Standing In My Truth

One of the biggest things I have been facing lately is learning how to stand ten toes down in rooms with people who may not like me, talk about me, complain about me, lie on me, watch me closely, or secretly hope I stay stuck so I never surpass them.

And the truth is, I do not shrink myself anymore.

I spent most of my life being a people pleaser.
Choosing silence over honesty.
Making myself smaller so everyone else could feel comfortable around me.

That is not who I am anymore.

Now I show up as my full authentic self everywhere I go. Whoever does not like that is simply not my problem.

The moment someone starts moving weird toward me, I reclaim my energy immediately. My intuition is rarely wrong and I have learned to trust what I feel instead of waiting for proof to validate it.

I can be around you without allowing you access to me.
I can be cordial without inviting you into my personal space.
I can love people from a distance while still protecting my peace.

And what people fail to understand is that there does not always have to be some huge argument or dramatic fallout for me to distance myself.

Sometimes I simply observe.
I pay attention.
I notice when actions stop matching words.
And once I see enough, I move accordingly.

Quietly.

Protecting My Energy

I have worked too hard on myself to keep entertaining certain energies.

I do not align myself with jealous women, constant negativity, manipulative people, chronic complainers, habitual liars, or people who spend all day gossiping about others instead of working on themselves.

Do not get me wrong, everybody loves a little tea sometimes. But if all someone talks about is other people, eventually you realize it comes from bitterness, insecurity, or projection.

If I feel like I cannot trust you, why would I continue giving you access to my inner world?

Why would I tell you my dreams, my plans, or the things that actually matter to me?

These days I have mastered keeping certain relationships surface level. Calm. Friendly. Respectful. But limited.

Because everybody does not deserve full access to me anymore.

Learning How To Release

Lately my emotions have been all over the place.

One day I feel like I am completely crashing out and the next day I sit there asking myself what I am even stressing over because deep down I already know everything is working out for me.

I know I am blessed.
I know God has carried me this far for a reason.
I know my life is shifting.

But overthinking still gets the best of me sometimes.

The difference now is that I no longer try to suppress what I feel. I let myself release it.

Sometimes that looks like crying.
Sometimes it looks like journaling.
Sometimes it looks like praying.
Sometimes it looks like finally speaking up about what has been bothering me.
Sometimes it looks like moving my body and letting the energy leave through movement.

And honestly, that has been changing my life lately.

I recently took my first hot yoga class and I loved every single minute of it. Even more than Pilates.

There was something so grounding about it.
So intentional.
So freeing.

Now I want to try regular yoga, hot Pilates, aerial silks, and bungee classes too. I want to explore new ways to move my body outside of just strength training.

And truthfully, I think those classes are attracting my kind of people.
People searching for more.
People trying to reconnect with themselves.
People wanting peace instead of performance.

Even if it is eight in the morning on a Wednesday, those are my people.

Realigning With My Purpose

Recently it feels like I keep meeting people who are living parts of the life I dream about.

People who found their way out of survival mode.
People who stepped outside of the traditional rat race.
People who created lives that actually feel aligned instead of just socially acceptable.

And every time I meet someone like that, it feels intentional.

Like God keeps placing reminders in front of me so I do not forget what I truly want for myself.

Because a while back, despite everything looking good on the outside, I still felt empty.

I had my own place.
A new car.
Two jobs.
I was supporting myself and my daughter.
Working out consistently.
Eating well.
Showing up.
Handling responsibilities.

From the outside, everything looked successful.

But internally something still felt missing.

And I realized it was because I had drifted away from my why.

I got so caught up in surviving the day to day routine that I stopped nurturing the bigger vision I originally had for my life.

Delayed Does Not Mean Denied

Now that some time has passed, I keep receiving little nudges reminding me that I need to move differently.

More quietly.
More intentionally.
More protected.

I have also realized that I talk too much sometimes.

Every time I announce something too early, somehow the energy around it shifts before it fully materializes. So lately I have been learning to keep certain things sacred until they are solidified.

Not everything needs an audience while it is growing.

And maybe that lesson ties into patience too.

Because just because I want something badly does not mean I am fully prepared to receive and maintain it yet.

There were seasons where my desire for the blessing was stronger than my readiness to sustain it.

And that is where patience comes in.

I still have moments where I crash out over not having what I want when I want it.
I still get frustrated.
I still spiral sometimes.

But deep down I know waiting has purpose.

The things meant for me will not miss me.
And what God is preparing for me will require a version of me mature enough to maintain it, multiply it, and protect it.

So for now I am learning to release control.
Learning to stop forcing timelines.
Learning to let go and let God.

Closing Mantra:

I trust that every delay, every lesson, and every redirection is shaping me into the version of myself capable of sustaining the life I pray for. I no longer chase what is meant for me in fear. I move with faith, discernment, and patience knowing that what belongs to me will arrive in divine timing and remain rooted in peace.

Becoming Her Changed Me

To The Moms Holding It All Together

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there first and foremost.

Honestly I’m not really at the stage where I fully enjoy Mother’s Day yet. I ended up picking up a shift I didn’t plan to work and then my daughter got sick Friday night into Saturday. So the one weekend I wanted to slow down and pour back into myself became another reminder that motherhood does not clock out. My baby needed extra love and care and naturally I redirected that energy right back to her.

Such is motherhood right?

But I wanted to make this blog specifically for the moms out there just doing the damn thing every single day. Waking up and taking care of your child. Working full time. Healing yourself while still supporting everyone around you. Constantly pouring out of your cup into everybody else’s.

And I especially want to speak to the single moms because chileeee… we really are a different breed.

This is no shade to the moms with amazing partners and support systems because that support matters. But this one is for the solo moms. The ones carrying the emotional weight, the financial weight, the mental load and still somehow finding the strength to show up every day.

The Parts I Don’t Usually Talk About

I don’t really speak on motherhood, pregnancy, or postpartum much. Mainly because there was a lot of pain attached to such a life changing experience for me. It’s still a touchy subject but I’ve healed enough now where talking about it no longer completely takes me under.

You guys know I keep it transparent around here so I do want to share a little bit about what motherhood has looked like for me outside of the cute moments and daily routines.

When I was living in Washington and found out I was pregnant it was honestly one of the best feelings in the world. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. Deep down I knew becoming a mother would unlock a version of myself I had never met before.

I just had no idea how deeply that transformation would change me.

Things got hard pretty quickly. I had just started a new job and didn’t have health insurance yet so I didn’t even get my first ultrasound until I was almost 19 weeks pregnant. I had HG which meant severe morning sickness and I felt terrible most of the time. But I still kept pushing through because I didn’t know what else to do except survive and take care of myself the best way I could.

Toward the end of my pregnancy I kept feeling like something wasn’t right. Every appointment I brought up concerns and kept getting brushed off. I knew my daughter wasn’t head down but I was constantly told everything looked fine and there was still time.

The day of my baby shower my water broke early.

I ended up delivering my daughter at 35 weeks through an emergency c section after staying pregnant a few extra days for steroid shots to help develop her lungs. And the crazy part is I was right the entire time. My daughter was incomplete breech. One leg up and one leg down.

Thankfully she came into this world healthy and strong.

Looking back I still wish I advocated for myself more. I wish I had felt more cared for throughout my pregnancy experience. But at the same time I give grace to the version of me that was simply trying to survive while carrying so much mentally, emotionally, and physically.

The Woman Motherhood Created

Once I had my daughter everything changed.

I had no choice but to become a woman in a completely different way. I became more protective. More selfless. More aware of the kind of life and environment I wanted for us.

At some point I packed up two suitcases, a diaper bag, my breast milk supply and left. I never looked back.

And honestly I never would have found that kind of courage if it wasn’t for her.

Motherhood pulled every version of me to the surface. The warrior. The protector. The healer. The survivor. The soft version of me too.

All of the hardship I experienced before, during, and after pregnancy built me into the woman and mother I am today. Not because I deserved those struggles but because I refused to let them break me.

Breaking Generational Patterns

One thing motherhood has taught me is that children deserve respect too.

I talk to my daughter with love and understanding. I explain things to her instead of shutting her down. I apologize when I’m wrong. I let her express herself safely and openly.

I’m raising her with the kind of emotional awareness I wish more of us grew up with.

I truly believe our children choose us in this lifetime and I take that responsibility seriously. I know I’m already breaking so many generational patterns and I plan to continue doing that through the way I raise her.

Motherhood feels like a second chance at reparenting myself while raising her at the same time.

And let me tell you something… unless you know Soleil in real life you would never guess she’s only three because baby girl acts like she’s thirteen already. There is never a dull moment with her.

A Different Kind Of Love

That unconditional love between a mother and child is truly unmatched.

I never fully understood love until I had her. I never saw life clearly until I had her. I never truly knew myself until I had her.

So when I say my daughter saved my life I mean that with every ounce of my being.

My job as her mother is not to mold her into who I want her to be or hold onto her like a possession. My job is to guide her. Protect her. Support her. Love her deeply while she grows into whoever she is meant to become.

And because of her my prayers have changed too.

I no longer pray for the picture perfect version of success. I pray for peace. Safety. Liberation. Purpose. Protection over me and my daughter. A fulfilled life filled with love and self awareness.

I pray that what I heal now changes the generations after us.

To Every Mother Reading This

Motherhood has pushed me to become the strongest version of myself.

There are tears that nobody sees. Angry cries behind closed doors. Moments where you feel exhausted beyond words. But somehow the laughs, cuddles, tiny moments, random conversations, and unconditional love always outweigh the hard days.

So today I just want to say Happy Mother’s Day to every mother out there.

You are doing the best you can with the tools you have.

Your love matters. Your sacrifices matter. Your presence matters.

And if nobody has told you lately… you are doing an amazing job.

Keep going mama. One day your child will fully understand just how deeply they were loved.

Closing Mantra:

I may not have had the perfect journey into motherhood but I became the woman I was always meant to be through it. Strong enough to protect. Soft enough to love deeply. Wise enough to break the cycle. And powerful enough to create a new beginning for me and my daughter.

Reclaiming My Mind, Releasing My Weight, and Returning to Myself Under the Full Moon

Digital Detox and Taking My Mind Back

After cutting back on my social media intake, I felt really good for a few days, even that entire week. The break allowed me to rest my mind and check back in with myself. I realized that not only was my algorithm my downfall, but my overthinking and anxious attachment style were a lethal combination. Stepping away truly did what I needed it to do.

When I came back, I was more intentional. I started rewiring my algorithm and shifting what was being pushed onto my feed. I still have to be mindful of what I consume, and honestly, it can feel exhausting having to decide so quickly whether something deserves my energy. But in a strange way, that awareness has reduced how much I even want to scroll. Less scrolling means less exposure, less comparison, less spiraling. Baby steps, but real ones. Taking control of my mind and what I consume is something worth acknowledging.

When the Full Moon Calls You to Face Yourself

I am not even going to lie to you, the last few weeks have been taking me out. And with this full moon, it felt like I was being spiritually pulled into confrontation with everything I had been avoiding. Full moons are known for illumination and release. They shine a light on what we try to suppress, forcing truth to the surface. Whether you are ready or not, the energy does not play.

This one felt different. It woke me up out of my sleep. Not gently, but with intention. I got up before the sun even rose and sat with myself in the stillness. That early morning energy felt sacred, like the world was quiet just so I could hear my own thoughts clearly. There was no distraction, no noise, just me and everything I had been carrying.

I grabbed my journal and wrote everything out. No filtering, no holding back. Just truth pouring onto paper. Full moon energy is about release, but you cannot release what you refuse to acknowledge. Writing became my way of purging what had been sitting heavy on my mind, body, and spirit.

And the truth is, I have been carrying a lot alone. I have not taken my search for a new therapist as seriously as I should, so everything has been sitting with me. It is heavy not having a space where I can unpack things without judgment. A space where I can be guided, challenged, and supported in a healthy way. Growth is beautiful, but it is also overwhelming when you are navigating new experiences without a map.

When the Body Speaks What the Mind Holds

These last few weeks have been overwhelming on every level. Spiritually, emotionally, and now physically. I ended up with a head cold, which feels almost ironic. Weeks of overthinking, replaying situations, questioning outcomes, wondering what I could have done differently, and creating endless scenarios in my mind. And now my body is reflecting that same congestion.

This cold has been persistent. Normally, I can knock something like this out in a few days with my usual remedies, hydration, and rest. But this one has lingered. It comes in waves. Some days I feel like I am getting better, and then it comes back just as strong. Congestion, pressure, fatigue. No matter what I do, it does not fully leave.

As a spiritual woman, I cannot ignore the connection. My mind has been congested with overthinking, stress, and anxiety. And now my body is mirroring that same stuck energy. Just like my thoughts, this cold refuses to move. It is a reminder that what we hold internally will always find a way to express itself externally.

Healing Without Escape

In my teens and twenties, when life felt overwhelming, I turned to weed and alcohol to numb what I did not want to feel. But at 30, those are no longer my go-to. And the truth is, there is nothing that truly numbs it anymore.

Once you become aware, you cannot go back. Once you know better, you have to do better.

That is the part of healing that people do not talk about enough. There is no escape. No shortcut. No distraction strong enough to override awareness. Being spiritual and committed to healing can sometimes feel like pressure. Like I always need to be fixing something, improving something, working on something.

But that is not the truth.

Sometimes, healing is simply allowing yourself to feel.
I am stressed being a single mother when that was never the plan.
I am overwhelmed carrying everything on my own.
I am anxious when I am left in uncertainty and my mind starts filling in the blanks.

And instead of trying to fix it immediately, I am learning to just sit with it.

Full Moon Release Ritual

So when the full moon woke me up, I listened. I held space for everything I had been avoiding. I cried. I felt it fully. And then I released it.

I wrote down everything I am letting go of, because release requires intention.

I release any situation, person, place, or opportunity that is no longer for me
I release stress
I release anxious attachment to people
I release the anxious thoughts that consume my mind and body
I release illness and stagnant energy
I release any lack mindset
I release the need to constantly be doing
I release the belief that I am never enough
I release the fear of not being fully chosen
I release emotionally unavailable connections

Full moons are not just about letting go. They are about reclaiming your energy. Calling your power back. Choosing yourself again and again.

Choosing Alignment Over Attention

I have really taken myself out of the game. And I mean that. I do not even want to entertain anyone right now.

I am going to be honest. I downloaded a dating app, set up my profile, and within minutes of swiping through two profiles, I deleted it. Immediately. I knew my intentions were not pure. I was trying to fill a void. I wanted attention.

But if I am seeking depth and a genuine connection, I cannot enter a space with shallow intentions. That would make me no different from the experiences I have been trying to heal from.

Given my history with emotionally unavailable men and dishonesty, I refuse to become a reflection of that. So yes, my phone is dry. Very dry. And while that can feel uncomfortable, I would rather sit in that discomfort than entertain something that is not aligned.

I will keep my little crush light and playful in my mind, and I will trust that what is meant for me will find me when the time is right.

Until then, I know there is still work to do within myself. Especially when it comes to my anxious attachment. I want to meet someone from a grounded place, not a place of need.

If the opportunity comes to connect with someone in a real, intentional way, I will be open to practicing what I have learned. But for now, I am taking it one day at a time.

Closing Mantra

What is leaving me is not a loss, it is a clearing
What is meant for me will not require confusion or chasing
I trust the timing of my life even when I cannot see the full picture
I am rooted in myself, guided by peace, and open to what is real

Choosing Stillness Over Noise

I know I’m infamous for this and I’ve probably said it a million times already, but I’m off social media right now.

Every time I take a break and come back, it feels like chaos. This time it was just too much. I genuinely felt like I was going crazy from the overload of information.

There are so many creators, so many opinions, so many videos, and it became overwhelming.

You all know I’ve been on a healing journey mentally, physically, and spiritually. I’ve been working out consistently, eating clean, journaling, writing this blog, being the best solo mom I can be, working full time plus a second job, and trying to navigate life while still healing.

And honestly, that’s already a lot.

What I realized is that my algorithm has become too in tune with me. Whatever kind of content I consume suddenly becomes my entire feed. One minute it’s workout videos and meal prep inspiration, and the next it’s relationship advice flooding my screen.

“This man doesn’t like you.” “If he ghosted you, this is why.” “If he does this, run.” “If he does that, he’s the one.”

Then it switches to healing quotes, motivational speeches, and “be the best version of yourself” content.

It became constant noise.

And somewhere in the middle of all that noise, I started losing touch with my own thoughts.

The scariest part was realizing how deeply the algorithm had learned me. It wasn’t just showing me general content anymore. It was pushing things connected to what was on my mind, even reflecting certain patterns so specifically that it started to feel invasive.

That was the moment I knew I needed to step back. I needed time to get my mind right and reconnect with my reality.

Because it’s so easy to overconsume on social media. It used to be TikTok, but now Instagram feels the same. No matter where I went, it was endless information, endless opinions, endless emotional stimulation.

And when you’re trying to heal, that kind of constant noise can pull you further away from yourself. The hard part is that I genuinely want to create. I want to share my journey because I know there are people who follow along, who value what I say, and who resonate with what I share.

But lately, content creation hasn’t felt authentic. I want to create from a place of truth, not from pressure. I want to share because it feels aligned, not because I feel obligated to stay visible. By the time you read this, I’ll be a few days into deactivating Instagram and logging out of everything else.

I needed the pause.

And maybe I won’t stay completely offline. Maybe I’ll log in to post my blog and then log right back out. But for right now, I need boundaries.

I need peace.

I also had to confront the way “locking in” became another pressure I was putting on myself. I kept telling myself, If I just lock in for the next month, everything will change.

But the truth is, I’m already doing so much.

I’m waking up before 5 a.m. I’m working out. I’m working two jobs. I’m raising my daughter. I’m journaling. I’m writing. I’m healing.

What else is there to “lock in” on?

At some point, I had to admit that I don’t need to add more. I need to rest more. I don’t need another productivity goal.

I need stillness.

And that realization was freeing.

Lately, I’ve noticed how anxious I’ve become, how attached I’ve felt to people, outcomes, and expectations. That isn’t the version of me I want to nurture. So this break is about choosing peace.

It’s about stepping away from the noise, stepping away from the pressure, and allowing myself to breathe again. And in this season, that includes stepping away from seeking love. Not because I’ve given up, but because I want peace more than I want attention.

I’m not on dating apps. I’m not entertaining conversations. I’m not chasing possibilities.

Right now, I crave stillness more than romance. Of course I still desire connection. I still believe in love. But I no longer want to force it, search for it, or exhaust myself trying to decode it.

When the time is right, what is meant for me will find me. Until then, my only responsibility is to keep growing.

To keep healing. To keep evolving. To keep becoming.

Because every repeated cycle is teaching me something, even if I don’t fully understand the lesson yet. The only way through is through. I can’t stay guarded forever, but I also don’t need to force anything open before its time. And maybe one of the biggest things I’m learning is that softness is not weakness. I’ve wondered if I’m too soft. Too caring. Too willing to see the good in people.

But I’m realizing that softness is one of my strengths. No matter how many times life disappoints me, I still move with love. I still choose compassion. I still choose grace. And in a world that often rewards detachment, that kind of softness is rare. I no longer see that as something to fix.

The truth is, when I choose to let someone into my life, I’m not looking for what they can give me. I’m not looking to be saved. I’m not looking for perfection. I’m simply looking for connection. I want to know the real person. I want honesty. I want presence. I want depth.

Because love is not about finding someone flawless. It’s about seeing someone clearly and choosing them fully. My understanding of relationships has changed. Real connection requires patience. It requires acceptance. It requires the willingness to love someone through their layers while also allowing yourself to be loved through yours.

I’ve had to learn that with myself first. To accept myself. To love myself through every layer. Through the healing, the trauma, the growth, and the becoming. And I think that’s where real love begins.

So for now, I am choosing stillness. I am choosing peace over pressure. Rest over performance. Presence over noise.

And maybe this pause is exactly what I need to hear myself again.

Closing Mantra:

I release the need to chase, force, or figure everything out. What is meant for me will meet me in peace. Until then, I honor my healing, protect my softness, and trust the timing of my life.

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