Category: At Home in My Body

Somewhere along the way, being strong turned into being isolated. Carrying it all became the badge. And asking for help? That somehow felt like weakness. Like failure. Like we’d disappointed some invisible standard. But here’s the truth—being able to do it all doesn’t mean you’re supposed to. You weren’t designed to hold the weight of…

No one taught us how much our nervous systems carry. They just expected us to push through. Be productive. Be polite. Be presentable. Be fine. Even when we were unraveling inside. But your nervous system remembers everything—the heartbreaks you buried, the tension you shrugged off, the panic you masked with a smile. It holds the…

You were never cold. It just looked that way because you were wrapped in layers—layers of silence, of survival, of having to be okay when you weren’t. You learned to keep your warmth tucked deep inside because the world didn’t feel safe enough to let it out. And when no one offered to help you…

Power used to mean control. Keeping everything together. Managing every detail. Always being three steps ahead. Power was the ability to handle everything without flinching, to stay in charge, to stay composed, to never need help. Because needing help felt like weakness. Letting go felt unsafe. But healing changes the definition of power. Real power…

Masculine energy got you through. But it’s not the home your soul wants to live in. You survived because you had to. You led, you fixed, you carried, you handled. You showed up when no one else did. You made the decisions, paid the bills, wiped the tears—sometimes your child’s, sometimes your own. You figured…

Let the softness you craved from others become the way you speak to yourself. Maybe for years, you waited for someone to notice. To see how heavy it was. To speak gently to you instead of demanding more. To choose you with tenderness, not just when you were useful or strong or put-together. Maybe you…

There’s no shame in wanting someone else to drive for a while. You’ve done enough steering. This is for the ones who have always held the map. Who’ve been the planners, the protectors, the providers. The ones who never had the luxury of crumbling because everyone else needed them to be okay. Who kept the…

Not every lesson has to come through pain. Joy can be a teacher too. It took me a long time to realize this. That I didn’t always have to be cracked open by grief or heartbreak to grow. That I didn’t need to collapse, crawl, or break into pieces in order to become wise. Somewhere…

Being feminine again isn’t about makeup or dresses. It’s about not having to brace yourself every morning. So many of us were taught that femininity meant how we looked—lipstick, polished nails, soft dresses, gentle smiles. We were told to “act like a lady” while carrying the weight of the world on our backs. But the…