Personal Reflections: Insights. Truths. Stillness. Growth 

The Stories I No Longer Carry

Date: June 25, 2025

There was a time I believed I had to earn my worth. That love was conditional. That silence kept the peace. But those were stories I inherited—not truths I chose.
We all carry narratives handed to us by family, culture, faith, or fear. Some protect us. Some confine us. For years, I wore the script of “not enough” like a second skin. I measured my value by achievement, people-pleasing, or perfection. But healing taught me that stories can change. And we can be the ones who change them.

This week, I paused to reflect on one story I’ve outgrown. Not with anger, but with gratitude. Because even painful scripts were trying to keep me safe.

Today, I no longer carry the belief that love must be earned. I know that I am inherently worthy—soft and strong, seen and whole.

Reflection Prompt:
What’s one belief you’ve outgrown—and what truth are you choosing instead?

Reflection: Finding Peace in the Midst of the Unknown

Date: June 30, 2025

There are moments when the weight of the world feels too heavy — when uncertainty creeps in and I find myself spiraling into fear about things I can't control. Recently, I felt that familiar panic rising. The state of the world, my finances, my future — it all began to swirl together into one overwhelming wave.

But then, something within me gently spoke: “Don’t go there. Breathe. Come back.”
That simple whisper reminded me to return to the present — to the good that already exists in my life. I realized that letting my emotions run wild wasn’t going to serve me. In fact, it would only block me from receiving the very things I desire.

When I give in to fear, I close the door to possibility. But when I pause, breathe, and return to center, I remember that I don’t have to have it all figured out. I can trust the unfolding. I can allow peace to be my guide rather than panic.

I believe our thoughts are powerful. They shape our reality. And I want to create a life filled with joy, abundance, and purpose — not just for myself, but in order to give and support others as well. That means choosing not to live at the mercy of every emotion or news headline, but instead finding that neutral, grounded space within that says: “It’s going to be okay.”

If you’ve been feeling overwhelmed too, please know this: you’re not alone. I see you. I understand the fear, the frustration, the longing for relief. But I also know this — there’s a still, steady place inside each of us that we can return to. A place of peace. A knowing that everything, somehow, will work itself out.

Let’s meet there. Let’s breathe together. Let’s trust again.

Reflection Prompt:

When you begin to feel overwhelmed by things outside your control, what helps you return to a place of calm and trust?

Take a moment to identify the thoughts, practices, or reminders that ground you — and reflect on how you can return to them more consistently. 

Languishing: The Hidden Struggle Many of Us Feel

Date: July 22, 2025

I know this feeling all too well—the one where you wake up, get through the day, smile when expected, and do everything you’re “supposed” to do, yet something still feels off. You’re not deeply depressed, but you’re not thriving either. Life feels flat, like you’re stuck in neutral, and even the things that used to bring joy feel… muted.

There’s actually a name for this: languishing. Psychologists call it “the neglected middle ground of mental health.” It’s not a clinical disorder, but it can feel like you’re running on autopilot—restless, tired, and disconnected, yet not completely hopeless. Languishing often shows up after long periods of stress or when you’ve been in survival mode for too long. It’s like living in a mental fog where you’re functioning but not really living.

I’ve been there myself, and I know how heavy it can feel. What helped me wasn’t one big change but a series of small, intentional steps. Things like sitting outside for ten minutes just to feel the sun on my skin, laughing with someone I trusted, creating something simply for the joy of it, or setting one tiny goal for the week. These little moments reminded me that I was still here, still capable of feeling alive.

If you’re feeling this way, you’re not alone. Naming it is the first step. The next step is giving yourself permission to do one small thing that brings you back to yourself. Healing doesn’t always happen in leaps—it often begins with the tiniest spark.