Yesterday’s therapy appointment went really well. I learned more about what our sessions will look like going forward — how we’ll approach things as they come up, how we’ll communicate, and how we’ll co-create this healing process. She gave me a few handouts for reference, and honestly? It felt fun to get a little nerdy together and lean into learning.
After therapy, I headed to Costco for my little “present and mindful” field trip… and it went GREAT. I found almost everything I needed, I didn’t get overwhelmed, and I got in and out with zero panic. That is a huge win for me.
When I got home, I put everything away, made myself some dinner, and waited for Heath to get home. We spent a cozy night together — one episode of Great British Baking Show, then reading side-by-side on the couch before winding down for bed. Pure comfort.
🌅 This Morning Felt Different — In the Best Way
Last night, I got myself into bed on time. I still struggled to fall asleep (my brain loves to party), but I honored my routine anyway. And this morning… I felt more on track than I have in a while.
My alarm went off and instead of the usual groan of “ugh, already?” — I just stretched, snuggled the dogs for a minute, and got up. I stepped outside for a few minutes of sunlight, then came back in for morning pages, affirmations, breakfast shake, and supplements. After that, I got dressed and headed to the chiropractor.
Slow, steady, grounded. It felt good.
⚡️ The Constant Urge to Rush — and Undoing It
Something I’m actively working on right now is my lifelong habit of rushing… through everything.
Brushing my teeth. Making breakfast. Reading a book. Cleaning the house. Watching a show. Doing yoga. Even resting.
There’s this relentless voice in my head saying:
“Go! Go! Go! Faster! Faster! Faster!”
Heart racing. Jaw clenched. Muscles tight. Breath shallow. Even when there’s no urgency, my body behaves like something terrible is chasing me.
So I’m learning to catch myself in those moments — to pause, breathe deeply, and remind myself:
“I am safe. Nothing is chasing me. This can take as long as it takes.”
This morning, I intentionally slowed down while getting ready. No frantic energy. No rushing. No panicked clock-checking.
And leaving the house actually felt… calm.
🚨 A Little Dog Drama
About halfway to my chiropractor appointment, I got a notification that the back door had opened — the house alarm was going off.
My stomach dropped.
Then I remembered: If the back door isn’t locked, the boys can let themselves out. (Too smart for their own good.)
I turned the alarm off from my phone and called Heath, panicking a little. He checked the cameras and confirmed it was just the dogs doing their thing. We agreed: I’d still go to my appointment and then head straight home.
So I skipped my original plans of going to the coffee shop after (tomorrow’s treat!) and went straight back home drove back after the appointment instead.
The boys were SO proud of themselves, completely unaware of the chaos they caused. Honestly… thank goodness they’re so cute.
🌿 Rest, Reading, and Beatles
The rest of my afternoon was slow and restorative.
I tried reading a little bit of my newest fantasy read, A Winter’s Promise, but my brain felt scattered. Instead of forcing it, I curled up on the couch and let myself rest — half nap, half meditation, all peaceful.
No shame. No “shoulds.” Just quiet.
When I felt ready, I made a Mediterranean chopped salad (my current obsession) and then got on the walk pad for my 45 minutes.
While I walked, I started Get Back on Disney+ — the Beatles documentary. After finishing Shout! the other day, I knew it was time for a rewatch. Watching them create songs out of thin air is magic. Pure magic.
🗺 Planning My Guthrie Reset Trip
After my walk, I finally sat down to plan something I’ve been wanting to do for a while: a solo overnight trip to Guthrie next week.
If you know me, you know Guthrie is my happy place — the preserved Victorian architecture, the history, the slower pace, the memories tied to my ancestors and our wedding… it feels like home.
I booked an Airbnb, messaged a couple of friends up there, and started planning my little itinerary:
Breakfast at my favorite spot
Walks around downtown
Visiting familiar faces
Solo writing time
A nice steak dinner
Rest, reflection, inspiration
I can’t even tell you how excited I am.
🌙 Tonight’s Plan
For the rest of the day, I’m staying on theme: slow, intentional, restorative.
A moderate yoga practice along with some piano practice as well. Some reading or more of Get Back. No rushing. No forcing. Just presence and ease.
It might be simple, but honestly?
That’s the kind of life I’ve always wanted.
💬 Let’s Talk
What’s one small thing you do (or want to do) to help yourself slow down and be more present in your day?
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The more I move through this healing journey and actually pay attention to my inner world, the more I’m realizing just how mean I am to myself on a truly consistent basis. Being harsh, cruel, and hypercritical toward myself has been my default setting for so long that I didn’t even recognize it as cruelty — I just thought it was “being honest” or “holding myself accountable.”
Now that I’m waking up to it, I’m finding myself in a strange kind of grief. Grief for all the past versions of myself who were trying so hard and never got any credit. Grief for the younger me who constantly made herself small because it felt safer than taking up space. Grief for all the times I chose beating myself up over giving myself even the tiniest bit of compassion.
📸 Boudoir Photos & a Brutal Inner Critic
On Friday, my boudoir photographer posted my sneak peeks in her VIP Facebook group, and I could not stop looking at them. At first, it was pure joy. I felt proud, powerful, and honestly kind of in awe of myself. Four out of the five photos were absolute bombshelly goddess energy — like, “who is that woman and can I be her all the time?”
And then, slowly, my brain did what it always does. It zeroed in on the one photo I didn’t instantly love. The one that felt slightly “off.”
Instead of soaking in the four images that made me feel incredible, I laser-focused on the one that didn’t. I picked it apart with the precision of someone who has decades of practice criticizing herself:
“My boobs look kinda squished.”
“My face looks weird. Why am I making that face?”
“My leg looks weird.”
And finally: “I look weird. I am weird.”
Before I knew it, that was the only photo I was looking at. The only one I was giving power to. I even brought it to Heath and asked, “Am I being too picky? Do you even like this one?”
He looked at me with so much sadness and love in his eyes and said, “You are so mean to yourself. Why are you so mean to yourself?”
And it hit me like a freight train.
I hadn’t even realized I was being cruel. To me, that voice is just… normal. It’s always been there. It’s the part of me that tries to “poke holes first” so no one else can. If I hurt my own feelings before anyone else gets the chance, at least I’m prepared, right?
Except… no. That’s just self-harm in a socially acceptable outfit.
I burst into tears because I knew he was right. I am so mean to myself. And all the excuses I’d used over the years — “I’m just pushing myself” or “I just want to be better” — suddenly felt really flimsy. If being this hard on myself actually worked, I’d be the best, happiest, healthiest version of myself by now. Clearly, it doesn’t work. So it’s time to try something different.
Once I caught my breath, I did the only thing I could think to do: I deleted the picture from my phone. If it wasn’t there, I couldn’t keep going back to it like a self-esteem punching bag. As soon as it was gone, I felt a tiny bit lighter. Just a tiny bit — but it was something.
We changed our plans for the evening, too. Instead of going out to dinner to “take advantage” of my hair and makeup, we stayed in. I put on my favorite comfy pajama set, we made cocktails, turned on Gilmore Girls, and just existed together on the couch. No performance. No expectations. Just nervous system recovery and cozy, quiet connection.
The weekend was busy and social, and somewhere in all the noise, I slipped right back into those old patterns of meanness without even realizing it. That’s the thing about defaults — they’re sneaky. Cruel self-talk has been my baseline for so long that it doesn’t even register as “mean.” It just feels like the truth.
I stayed distracted on Monday because Heath was home sick, and I poured all my attention into taking care of him and being present with the dogs. I didn’t give myself much space to notice how I was feeling internally.
Then Tuesday came. Heath went back to the office, I had quiet time alone, and everything I’d been pushing down started to surface. I had a really hard time writing my post that day. Everything I put on the page felt flat or pointless. I felt heavy and tired and depleted and — surprise — I was being incredibly hard on myself the whole time.
And yet, even in that fog, I still showed up.
I got on the walk pad.
I made myself lunch.
I did yoga.
I showered and got dressed.
I went to therapy, even though a big part of me wanted to bail and avoid, avoid, avoid.
I wrote and published a blog post.
From the outside, that looks like a pretty solid day. But internally, I was criticizing myself the entire time. Telling myself I was being dramatic. Telling myself I should be fine because “nothing bad happened.” Telling myself I was whining, that I was wasting time, that I wasn’t doing enough, that I should be doing more. I am always telling myself I should be doing more. It’s exhausting.
🛋️ Therapy, Awareness & the 1% Rule
When I sat down on the couch in my therapist’s office and she asked how I was, I decided to be honest: “I’m not great. I’m feeling pretty off.”
I told her everything — what I’d done that day, how I felt like it “wasn’t enough,” and how it frustrated me that even after doing all the hard things (yoga, walking, feeding myself, showering, brushing my teeth), I still didn’t feel better.
She stopped me and said, “Hey, that is HUGE.”
She reminded me that doing the hard things especially on the hard days is a big deal. Rationally, I know this… but emotionally, I had completely lost that thread. I had started worrying that because I still didn’t feel good, I must not be doing enough. Cue more tears.
I told her how I’d struggled to write my post earlier and how I felt like I hadn’t really said anything, but I hit publish anyway. She gently reminded me that my goal is authenticity — and sometimes authenticity looks like saying, “I don’t know what to say, I’m not feeling it today, but I’m showing up anyway.” Which, funnily enough, is exactly the kind of post I find comforting when it comes from other people.
I also told her about this pressure I feel to always be “on,” even when I’m alone. I’m constantly narrating my life in my head as if I’m prepping the story to be told later — like I have to be interesting enough to justify existing. It’s like I’m trying to prove to some invisible audience that I’m worth the space I take up. And honestly… it’s exhausting.
She asked if I wanted to try an awareness exercise, and I said, “Yes, please.”
She guided me softly — helping me notice my feet on the floor, the support of the couch, the pace of my breathing. Little by little, I felt myself drop out of my spinning mind and back into my body. I felt my chest open up, my heart rate slow down, my abdomen unclench. My breath got deeper. My shoulders finally relaxed.
When I got to a place where I could say, “I feel a little better,” she looked at me and said, “I need you to know that you did that. I guided you, but you brought yourself back.” Cue more tears.
Through sniffles I said, “I can do hard things.” And I meant it.
She encouraged me to keep practicing the awareness exercise on my own, especially at night. She told me to only aim for feeling 1% better — not 100%, not “fixed,” just 1%. If I feel 1% better afterward, that’s a win. Day by day, 1% adds up.
That felt doable. I can aim for 1%. I can reach for tiny shifts instead of total transformation overnight.
☕ A Surprise Coffee & a Different Kind of Self-Care
This morning, when my alarm went off, I did not want to get up yet — so I didn’t. I let myself stay snuggled with the dogs and set a timer so I’d still have time to do my pages and make my shake before I needed to leave for the chiropractor. I just felt heavy. Not sad, not panicked, just… slow.
Today, for the first time since I started my chiropractic journey, I genuinely wanted to skip my appointment. But I knew I needed it, and I knew I would regret it if I didn’t go. My neck was still sore from the day before, so I got myself up, did my morning routine, and headed out the door.
When I was on the table getting adjusted, Dr. Lauren casually asked me what I was planning to do for the rest of the day, and I told her honestly — “I’m not really sure… probably nothing. I’m still recovering from socializing this weekend.” She immediately lit up and asked if I’d ever been to a little coffee shop nearby. I said no, and she absolutely raved about it. She told me the coffee was amazing and the vibes were immaculate. I made a mental note, but I also knew that I probably didn’t have it in me today. I just wanted to go home and go back to bed.
Then, as I was checking out, she called me over to the front desk and said she had something for me. She handed me a $10 bill and said, “Normally I have gift cards for the coffee place, but I’m out. Here — go get yourself a cup of coffee!”
I was absolutely floored. These people are just… unbelievable. I thanked them over and over, and at that point, there was no excuse. I had to go. I owed it to them — and honestly, to myself.
So I plugged it into my GPS and drove straight there.
And she was absolutely right — the place was adorable. Warm lighting, cozy corners, lots of natural elements. I ordered an iced lavender-honey latte called The Bee’s Knees. I paid with the $10 bill and then put all the change in the tip jar because there was no universe in which I was not paying it forward.
Once I had my coffee in hand, my instinct was to leave immediately — get in the car, head home, crawl back into bed. But something in me said, “No. Sit down. Take a minute.”
So I did. I found a little corner seat, pulled out my phone to start scrolling, and then remembered I had a journal in my bag. I swapped the phone for the journal, grabbed a pen, and started writing.
Earlier that morning I had seen a quote on Instagram that said:
“If you consider yourself self-aware but only acknowledge the things you need to change — and not the things you’re doing well — you’re not self-aware; you’re just being mean to yourself.”
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
So while I was sitting there, sipping my lavender latte, I decided to make a list of things I know I’m good at. At first it felt silly and awkward and uncomfortable… and then it didn’t. Then it felt kind. Then it felt necessary. I could feel the tension in my shoulders start to melt with each new bullet point.
When I finally felt ready to leave, I got in the car — and instead of heading straight home, I just started driving. No plan. No destination. Just following whatever direction felt good in the moment. I explored a part of the metroplex I’d never seen before, windows down, coffee in hand, zero agenda.
Eventually, when I felt ready to actually be home, I plugged in my address and hit “avoid highways” so I could take the long, scenic way back.
By the time I pulled into the driveway, I felt more regulated than I had in days.
🏡 Quiet Tasks, Gentle Wins
When I got home, I went into the backyard and played with the dogs for a bit. Nothing big, nothing fancy — just fetch and sniffs and sunshine. Then I came inside and started tidying up the house. Not because I “had to” or because anyone expected it from me, but because I genuinely wanted to.
Before he left this morning, Heath had specifically told me not to worry about the house, and to only focus on taking care of myself. So I didn’t go into productivity overdrive, I only did a few things that felt supportive, not punishing:
I did the dishes and cleared out the sink.
I stripped the bed and started washing the bedding.
I ran the robot vacuum through the kitchen and living room.
And then I sat down to write this post.
What a difference a day makes.
Yesterday, I was struggling to find my words and remember my “why.” Today, I slowed down, focused on being present, let go of a lot of “shoulds,” and I feel so much better. Not perfect, not euphoric — just better. And that counts.
💗 Learning to Celebrate ‘Better Than Before’
I keep having to remind myself that healing isn’t linear. I know this. I’ve heard it. I’ve written it. But I also forget it all the time. And while it would be easy to beat myself up for forgetting, that would be the exact opposite of what I’m trying to learn.
So instead, I’m choosing to gently remind myself each time I need to. I will keep showing up and doing the work. I will keep aiming for 1% better. I will keep practicing being kinder to myself — especially on the days when it feels the hardest.
I’m becoming a version of myself I’ve never been before. Of course I’m going to trip over my own feet. Of course I’m going to lose my balance sometimes. That’s how learning works.
Instead of criticizing myself for every stumble, I’m trying to be grateful for the lessons they carry. I am still very early in this healing journey, all things considered. Rather than berating myself for not being “further along,” I’m learning to celebrate that I’m already so much better than I was when I started — especially when I started this blog.
I am doing the work. Some days are messy and loud. Some are quiet and small. All of them are worth sharing.
💬 Let’s Chat
Have you noticed places where your default setting is being mean to yourself? What’s one small, kind thing you could say to yourself instead today?
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Thank you, truly, for being here with me while I figure all of this out. Your presence means more than you know.
Yesterday marked two months of Bailz Has a Blog and I honestly cannot believe how far I’ve come in such a short time. When I launched this space, I was still in rough shape—physically, mentally, emotionally—and deep in denial about it. I wasn’t sleeping enough, eating enough, or caring for myself in even the most basic ways.
But then I started documenting everything. I started looking inward. I started noticing what wasn’t working… and then fixing it. I started celebrating victories. And damn… I am so freaking proud of myself.
💋 Today Was My Boudoir Photoshoot (!!)
All week long, I had been really, really nervous about it—honestly, almost to the point of dreading it. Somehow, this thing I once wanted became something I felt like I had to do. I didn’t even notice the shift until this morning while writing my morning pages.
Last night, I prepped in all the ways—Pilates, exfoliating, shaving, moisturizing, curating my playlist—but I was going through the motions. No excitement. Just nerves.
And then this morning, while journaling, it hit me: This was all for ME. I wanted this. I chose this. It was never an obligation—it was a gift to myself. That realization flipped a switch. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get to the studio.
🎶 Once the Music Started… Game On
When I arrived, we jumped straight into hair and makeup. I turned on my playlist. And from the first pose, when the photographer showed me the preview on her camera… it was OVER for any remaining self-doubt. The second I saw myself, I fully stepped into it.
By the end, I was walking around the studio completely naked like it was nothing. I felt comfortable. Beautiful. Confident in a way I have never felt before in my life.
I genuinely could’ve kept shooting for another hour. I didn’t want it to end. I felt like a goddess. I felt like me.
📸 Sneak Peeks + Floating on Cloud Nine
Once I got home, I got a text from the photographer—she posted the sneak peeks early.
HOLY. CRAP.
You guys… they are even better than I imagined. I can’t wait to see the full gallery!
Also, I’m keeping my makeup on until bedtime because I’m obsessed—and Heath is taking me out tonight because he said I look “too good not to show off.” 🥰
🌹 If You’ve Ever Wanted To Do a Boudoir Shoot… DO IT.
Find a photographer whose vibe feels right. Send the inquiry. Book the shoot. Do it for you.
In the iconic words of Moira Rose:
Take a thousand, naked pictures of yourself now. You may currently think, “Oh, I’m too spooky.” Or, “Nobody wants to see these tiny boobies.” But, believe me, one day you will look at those photos with much kinder eyes and say, “Dear God, I was a beautiful thing!”
This is maybe the best thing I’ve ever done for myself. I can’t believe I almost talked myself out of it—right up until this morning.
💬 Your Turn
I’d love to hear from you in the comments!
Have you ever done a boudoir photoshoot? Would you ever want to?
What’s something you’ve always wanted to do just for YOU?
What helps you reconnect with your confidence when you lose it?
What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done for yourself?
Are you more nervous-excited or excited-nervous when trying something new?
💜 Enjoying the journey?
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Today has been another slow day, but I can feel myself starting to come back to myself. I’ve still got a ways to go, but the fog is lifting bit by bit. And for now, that’s enough.
It still takes effort—more than I’d like—to truly let go and relax. That voice in the back of my mind is still whispering: “Don’t waste this time! You should be doing more. You’ve rested plenty. Let’s go!”
But I’m getting better at replying: “Yeah, yeah, I hear you. But I’m going to snuggle up on the couch and enjoy this episode of Gilmore Girls anyway.”
💗 A Little Help From My Favorite Human
Heath worked from home today, and honestly, his presence made a huge difference. This afternoon, he surprised me with a little at-home spa setup—he arranged a cozy chair with a back massager, brought out the foot bath, made sure I had snacks, and told me to just relax.
So I sat. I soaked. I snacked. I let the knots in my back melt a little. I watched TV. I laughed. I cried. I breathed. I was present.
It wasn’t glamorous, but it was meaningful.
🛁✨ The Power of Ritual
Since getting home from Guthrie, I’ve returned to one of my favorite self-care rituals: nightly baths. Every evening, I draw a warm bath and take time to reconnect with myself.
Lately, I’ve been treating myself to some beautiful bath soaks from Flewd—my current favorite is called “Sads Smashing” (fitting, right?). They’re clean, fragrant, and formulated with emotional and physical well-being in mind.
I turn on my galaxy light, set a timer for 30 minutes, and listen to something soothing—sometimes Mel Robbins, sometimes an audiobook, sometimes sound frequencies focused on relaxation, chakra healing, or self-love. I hydrate well before, during, and after.
This little ritual is helping me reestablish trust with myself. It’s saying: “You matter. You’re worth taking care of.” Not just on the good days—but on the hard ones and the quiet, in-between ones too.
🤍 A Gentle Reminder
This phase of my life isn’t flashy or exciting. But it is sacred in its own way. I’m learning how to rest. How to let go. How to be soft with myself. And how to believe that small acts of care are more than enough.
As always, thank you for walking through this journey with me.
💜 Bailz
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Today turned out to be a fabulous day—and I almost talked myself out of it. If I hadn’t been intentionally practicing presence and mindfulness, I would’ve stayed home. And I’m so glad I didn’t.
My husband and I were invited to a baby shower for a friend from work—well, from my old job and his current one. And I came very close to skipping it and letting Heath go solo. Not because I didn’t want to celebrate our friend, but because I felt vulnerable. I was so nervous. I changed my outfit twice. Even as we were walking out the door, I still didn’t feel settled.
I hadn’t seen any of these people since I quit. And I felt hesitant about telling anyone what I’m doing these days. I’m still unlearning the belief that if I’m not “working” in the traditional sense, then I’m not doing anything worth talking about. That old story still creeps in.
Even as we were leaving the house, I was waffling. But I reminded myself: the odds are, I’ll be glad I went. Even if part of me wants to stay home now, the future version of me probably won’t regret going. I’ve been listening to a LOT of Mel Robbins lately, and I could practically hear her voice in my head saying, Go. Show up for your life. So I did.
🎧 A Small Yes That Shifted Everything
It was about an hour drive to the party, and I kept thinking about The Let Them Theory audiobook. Since I recently wrote about it, it’s been on my mind a lot. I read the hard copy the first time around, but I had a hunch the audiobook would hit differently.
Still, every time I thought about suggesting it, I silenced myself. Until I caught what I was doing—shrinking again. I asked myself: What’s the worst that could happen? He might say he’s not in the mood. That’s not so scary.
So I trusted the nudge.
“Hey, since we have a bit of a drive there and back, want to listen to an audiobook?” “Sure!” “I have The Let Them Theory. Want to try that?” (Pause) “Yeah, that sounds good!”
And just like that, boom. A tiny moment of bravery. I spoke up. Not a massive thing on the surface, but it changed the tone of my entire day. It made me feel confident, seen, and self-trusting. My voice mattered.
☕ And Then… Starbucks Magic
About ten minutes into the drive, another nudge hit me: Starbucks. I wanted coffee. Really badly.
Cue my inner narrator writing a dramatic script in my head about how inconvenient it would be, how Heath might say no, how we didn’t have time. But again, I caught myself. We were already listening to my audiobook because I spoke up—why stop there?
“Hey, can I ask a favor?” “Of course, what’s up?” “Can we stop at Starbucks if we see one?” “Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem!”
I kid you not—the very next exit had a sign. One option listed. Starbucks.
I’ve had a lot of pumpkin spice lattes in my life, but that one? That one tasted like a win. Not because of the drink itself, but because I earned it by honoring my own voice—twice.
🎉 The Shower That Nearly Wasn’t
By the time we got to the baby shower, I was buzzing. Still a little nervous, but it felt more like excitement than dread. That kind of energy used to send me into a spiral. I would’ve mistaken it for fear and let it swallow me whole. But not today. I breathed through it, reminded myself that I was safe, and walked in with an open heart.
And y’all—it was a fantastic afternoon.
I laughed. I caught up with old coworkers. I had fun. But the cherry on top? Several people told me they’ve been reading my blog—and they like it.
WHAT?!?
Compliments have never been easy for me. They feel like wearing jeans straight out of the dryer—tight and awkward. But I did my best to receive them graciously. It meant so much to hear that people not only read my words but resonated with them.
And to think—I almost missed all of that.
🌱 From Good to Great
If I had stayed home, I’m sure the day would’ve still been good. I might’ve journaled, drafted a post, tidied the house. But instead, I took a chance. I showed up. I spoke up. I gave myself the opportunity to move from good to great.
Every day, I see more evidence that the work I’m doing is working. Today, the proof came in the form of little wins: saying what I wanted, asking for what I needed, and showing up even when it felt easier not to.
And I’m so glad I did.
Thank you for being here. Stay tuned for more tales from the life of Bailz. 💜
Bailz Has a Blog 