This space has changed—because I have too.
I used to think healing had to look a certain way—like progress, or neatness, or strength. But now I know it often looks like slowing down. Falling apart. Starting again, not with answers, but with presence. This space began as something else. And it served me for a time. But I’m not there anymore.
Now, this is a home for real healing. Not the shiny kind. The kind that’s tangled and true. The kind that asks more questions than it answers. The kind that honours your body, your grief, your joy, your contradictions. The kind that trusts that nature doesn’t rush—and you don’t have to either.
I write for those of us who are done performing. Who are done chasing perfection, spiritual or otherwise. Who want to rest into who we are—even if we’re still unsure, still healing, still soft from the storm.
My reflections come from my own lived experience. They are shaped by heartbreak, motherhood, memory loss, weight gain, starting over, and learning how to live without pretending. They are grounded in a naturalist worldview—one that doesn’t look to gods or gurus for salvation, but to breath, seasons, truth, and the quiet wisdom of being human.
You’ll find writing here on:
Body acceptance that isn’t about fixing yourself—it’s about finally coming home.
Parenting with honesty, not shame.
Love after separation that lets you stay soft without losing yourself.
Money, not as pressure—but as a tool for peace.
Healing that’s slow, seasonal, and fully human.
I’m not here to lead you. I’m here to walk with you.
No hype. No spiritual bypassing. No pretending.
Just space to breathe. To feel. To rebuild gently, in your own time.
You already belong.
Always,
Kate