Category: The Quiet Bloom

Growth doesn’t start with a grand reveal—it starts quietly, under the surface. A seed sits in the dark for a while before it breaks through the soil. It doesn’t rush, doesn’t question its worth, doesn’t panic because nothing’s blooming yet. It just waits, trusting the process written into its very being. That’s how I’m learning…

Growth doesn’t always come with clarity or clean edges. It often shows up in the middle of the unknown—when I’ve left something behind but haven’t fully stepped into what’s next. That in-between space, the one filled with questions and second-guessing, is where so much of my becoming takes place. Starting fresh isn’t neat. It’s not…

Some days, I wake up and it feels like there’s a stone in my chest. Not sharp—just heavy. It’s not dramatic or loud. It’s just there, making everything slower. Grief has a way of folding itself into the smallest moments. It sits quietly in the pause between tasks, in the way my coffee cools too…

The earth doesn’t stay the same all year. It blooms, sheds, rests, and grows again—without apology. There’s no shame in winter. No guilt in spring. And I’m starting to see that my career, my path, can be just as cyclical. There are times when I’ve pushed, achieved, climbed. And there are times when I’ve paused,…

It’s easy to doubt yourself when your feelings don’t fit what others expect. Maybe you feel sadness when people say you “should be over it.” Maybe you feel anger when others want you to “just forgive and forget.” Maybe you feel lonely even in a crowded room. Here’s the truth: your feelings are your body…

I used to be afraid of my anger. I saw it as something messy and shameful—something to bury deep so no one could see. But the more I buried it, the more it grew, like roots spreading under the surface, cracking things I thought were stable. Now I’m learning that anger isn’t the enemy. It’s…

There’s a deep, quiet intelligence in my body that I’m learning to listen to more and more. It’s not about control or forcing things to happen the way I want; it’s about trust. Trusting that my body knows exactly what it’s doing—even when my mind is filled with doubt or worry. Every ache, every craving,…

When my child has a meltdown or talks back or refuses to do something I asked, it’s easy to feel like I’m doing something wrong—or that they are. But I’ve been learning to pause and remind myself: this isn’t a sign of failure. It’s information. Their behaviour isn’t a reflection of my worth as a…

Just because your story started in pain doesn’t mean it has to end there. Just because someone told you who you were—too emotional, too quiet, not enough, hard to love—doesn’t mean their version is the truth. You are not locked into the roles other people gave you. You can rewrite the script. Maybe you grew…