Tag: emotional healing

  • 🌿 Two Years Post-Chemo: A Reflection on Healing, Growth, and Self-Trust

    🌿 Two Years Post-Chemo: A Reflection on Healing, Growth, and Self-Trust

    Yesterday, October 25th, officially marked two years since my last chemo infusion to treat Hodgkin’s Lymphoma.

    I’ll admit — I didn’t realize what day it was at first. There wasn’t some big countdown like a birthday or anniversary. And when I finally did realize, it hit me harder than I expected. I knew the date was coming up, and I knew I wanted to write about it here, but I procrastinated thinking about it. I told myself, “I’ll think about it on the day.”

    And then suddenly, there it was — the day — and I felt blindsided.


    💭 Revisiting “That Day”

    At first, my mind went straight back to that original October 25th in 2023. To be honest, it wasn’t a great day.

    What I’d imagined would be full of joy and celebration ended up feeling disappointing and frustrating. I gave my emotional power away — not consciously, but I did.

    As I started writing about it, I got sucked right back into that version of myself — angry, hurt, raw. I wrote, deleted, rewrote. The emotions were heavy. I could feel them crawling up through the keys. It was like I’d time-traveled, sitting at my kitchen table but right back there.

    Eventually, I realized how foul I was feeling and stopped. I went to Heath, told him what was happening, and he just hugged men and listened. We talked, and he gently helped pull me out of that dark loop. He asked what I wanted to do that day just for fun, and the answer came easily: I wanted a pedicure — and I wanted him to go with me.

    So we did. 💅 It was simple but healing. Heath had never been to a nail salon before, so it became this small, joyful adventure for both of us.


    🌸 Choosing Growth Over the Old Loops

    Instead of spiraling back into the pain of that day, I decided to focus on how far I’ve come in two years.

    Two years ago, old Bailz would have let those emotions derail the entire day. She would’ve curled up in bed and let the pain consume her — because that was familiar. That was what she knew.

    But new Bailz recognized the loop. She spoke up. She asked for help. She chose to redirect.

    That’s the difference.

    Now, I’m learning to take care of myself in the hard moments, not just when things feel easy. I’m keeping promises to myself because I finally know I’m worth the work.


    💪 Two Years of Becoming

    If old me could see me now, I don’t think she’d believe it.

    Going to bed and waking up at the same time?
    Not snoozing the alarm four times?
    Eating consistently, moving my body, and actually being kind to myself?
    Who is this girl?!

    Two years ago, I was terrified to speak up about what I needed. I thought advocating for myself was selfish or rude. I thought the things that lit me up were fine for other people — just not for me, because no one had handed me permission.

    I had no idea how small I was making myself just to keep the peace.


    🕊 Turning Pain Into Purpose

    But here’s the thing: that difficult day — the last chemo day I was so angry about — ended up being a catalyst.

    It pushed me to write that letter to my family.
    It pushed me to finally speak up and take up space.

    The fallout was painful. There was grief, depression, and a long stretch of darkness. I held out hope that accountability might come, that relationships could heal. But when that didn’t happen, I started rebuilding without them.

    And now… I look around at this life I’ve built, and I am so proud of myself.


    🌻 What I’ve Learned in Two Years

    If I had to boil it all down to one lesson, it’s this:

    You only get one life — love it.
    And if you don’t love it, change it.

    That’s what I did.

    I started speaking up for myself. I started holding people accountable — and when they refused, I learned to walk away. I’ve grieved. I’ve healed. I’ve grown.

    I’ve gotten tattoos simply because I wanted them. I’ve taken myself on solo vacations. And earlier this year, Heath and I eloped — just the two of us (with our photographers as witnesses). We made that day ours. No guilt. No permission. Just love.

    That, to me, is the definition of healing — living life on your own terms, with self-trust and self-compassion leading the way.


    🌞 Here’s to Two Years of Change

    Two years post-chemo.
    Two years of reclaiming my life.
    Two years of learning to choose peace, joy, and authenticity — over and over again.

    All the work I’ve done can’t change the past. But it has changed how I see it — and how I see myself.

    Here’s to many more years of growth, of healing, of living fully.

    💜
    Love always,
    Bailz

  • 🌅 Morning Pages, Affirmations, and the Art of Showing Up (Even When You Don’t Want To)

    🌅 Morning Pages, Affirmations, and the Art of Showing Up (Even When You Don’t Want To)

    I’m currently on week two of working through The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, and I’m really enjoying the process so far. The biggest change I’ve incorporated is what Cameron calls morning pages — and let me tell you, they’ve been transformative.

    Every morning, as soon as I wake up, I sit at the kitchen table and write three full pages, longhand, in pure stream-of-consciousness style. I put the date and time at the top of the first page and just let it flow.

    Some mornings start with:

    • “I’m pissed off today because I’m so tired and annoyed with my night sweats.”
    • “I just feel angry today.”
    • “I don’t know what to write, I don’t know what to write,” — repeated for half a page until something new bubbles up, and off I go.

    Not always, but usually, by the time I reach the end of my third page, I feel lighter. Still tired, yes — but no longer radiating rage. After those three pages, I fill one more page (front and back) with affirmations inspired by a Mel Robbins podcast I recently watched:

    🎧 8 Things to Say to Yourself Every Morning to Change Your Life

    💬 The Affirmations I Write Each Day:

    • Today is going to be a great day.
    • Something cool is going to happen to me today.
    • No matter what happens today, I can handle it.
    • An exciting new chapter is beginning.
    • I need to give myself more credit for how hard I’m trying.
    • I am allowed to be a work in progress.
    • If I keep showing up, life will reward me.
    • I have something important to contribute to the world.

    Once I finish my three pages, I repeat those eight affirmations four times, which fills a front and back page perfectly. And when I’m done? I usually feel capable — sometimes even motivated enough to hop on the walk pad or roll out the yoga mat almost immediately without really having to talk myself into it. Considering how I often start these pages with “I’m so freaking angry right now,” that feels pretty miraculous.


    🌞 The Power of Showing Up

    There have been several mornings where I’ve wanted to skip the pages — to tell myself, “I’ll do them later.” But they’re not called whenever-you-want pages. They’re called morning pages. So I’ve stuck with them, and I’m honestly proud of that.

    This morning, though, was a real test.

    I was asleep by midnight with my alarm set for 8:00 AM so I could be up in time for my chiropractor appointment. But around 4:45, I woke up drenched in sweat — again. I changed clothes, moved to the guest room, and lay there for an hour before I fell back asleep. When I finally did, I had nightmares until Winston barked just before my alarm went off.

    I was furious when I got up. Bone-tired and frustrated. But I still sat down and wrote. The pages were messy, cranky, and full of complaints — but that’s the point. The act of writing helps me let go. I’d rather vent to the page than carry it in my chest all day.


    💫 Affirmations, Adjustments, and Exhaustion

    When I finished my pages, I tried to bargain with myself about skipping affirmations. “I’m tired. I have my appointment soon. I’ll do them later.” But I caught myself — that’s exactly when I need them most. So I did them anyway. I wrote fast, a little sloppy, but I still did them. And that counts.

    After that, I went to my chiropractic appointment. Dr. Lauren said she got everything adjusted that she wanted to today, which is great news. I’m a little sore, especially in my hips and neck, but that’s expected — my muscles are adjusting to the bones being where they’re supposed to be again.

    I wish I could say that put me in a great mood, but honestly, my sleep deprivation is catching up with me. I am so tired. I can’t remember the last time I woke up dry, or rested, or without dread in my chest. When that’s your normal, it wears you down.

    Heath and I have been doing a ton of research to figure out what’s causing it. I’ve adjusted my diet, started supplements, drastically reduced alcohol, added protein before bed, hydrated more, and focused on nervous system regulation. I’m doing everything right — and nothing’s working yet. It’s defeating. But I’m still hopeful that as my body continues to rebalance through chiropractic care and all the other work I’m doing, relief will come.

    When I got home from my appointment, I crawled back into bed for a nap. I woke up sweaty and cranky again, but I’m trying to stay patient. I know things will get better eventually. I have to believe that. Otherwise, I’ll lose my mind.

    For now, I’m just taking it one page, one stretch, one affirmation at a time.

    💜
    Love always,
    Bailz


    ✨ If you’re on your own healing or creative journey, I hope this reminds you that showing up for yourself doesn’t have to be perfect — it just has to be consistent. Every word, every stretch, every act of care counts. You’re doing better than you think. 💜

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  • 🌙 Showing Up Scared (Again)

    🌙 Showing Up Scared (Again)

    I find myself in a weird space today. On one hand, I’m feeling better than I have all week—more like myself, less like someone who needs to make herself small for the comfort of others. On the other hand, I’m feeling emotionally conflicted.


    💬 Speaking My Truth

    Before I go any further, I have a confession: I’ve been keeping some of my emotional pain to myself. My inner critic has been whispering that sharing any of it would be “airing dirty laundry” or “slinging mud.” But I’m realizing that talking about what I’ve lived through isn’t gossip—it’s honesty. And this blog was never meant to be a highlight reel. It’s about authenticity. So, here we go.


    🌧 Two Years of Distance

    About two years ago, I made the incredibly difficult decision to create distance between myself and my mom and sister. The years leading up to that point were full of me begging to be seen, heard, and understood—and coming up empty. I was repeatedly told I was “too sensitive,” that I needed to toughen up, that my feelings were exaggerated. Eventually, I couldn’t keep doing it. I wrote a long message explaining how I felt, and then I stepped back.

    Since then, there have been opportunities for conversation, for accountability, for healing—but none have gone the way I’d hoped. The response has always been some version of, “You’re too sensitive,” or, “You owe us the apology.” That used to devastate me. Now, I see it for what it is: a reflection of where they are in their own process, not a measure of my worth.

    Creating that distance broke my heart. But it also saved me. It gave me room to start figuring out who I am outside of the family roles I used to play. I stopped living in constant self-doubt and started learning how to protect my peace instead of sacrificing it for harmony that wasn’t real.


    🔥 Choosing Growth Over Smallness

    The easy thing would have been to slide back into my old patterns—the people-pleasing, the self-silencing, the shrinking. And I won’t lie, it’s crossed my mind more times than I can count. But this time, I’m choosing differently. I’m choosing to do the hard thing: to build a life that’s mine. To uphold my boundaries. To protect my peace. To discover who I am, not who I needed to be to keep everyone else comfortable.

    The past two years have been heavy—grief mixed with anxiety, depression, and a lot of questioning myself. There are still moments where I think, “Maybe I am too sensitive.” But then I look back at what actually happened, and I remember: sensitivity isn’t a flaw. It’s my radar. It’s how I survived—and how I’m learning to thrive.


    🍽 Dinner and Discomfort

    When my dad reached out about having dinner last night, I said yes—hesitantly, but yes. All day yesterday I was a bundle of anxiety and anger. I nearly cancelled. I didn’t want to be triggered or spiral backwards. But I also wanted to see my dad. So I decided to prepare myself the best way I know how: through intentional self-care.

    I walked on the walk pad. I did yoga. I soaked in a Flewd anxiety-easing bath (this one, if you’re curious). I took a shower and put on an outfit that made me feel confident and grounded. I was still anxious, but underneath it, there was something new—trust in myself. Trust that no matter how dinner went, I could handle it differently this time.

    And you know what? It went… okay. It was even, dare I say, fun. But that’s where the emotional conflict comes in. I’m relieved we had a nice time, but that doesn’t mean everything is fixed. Most of the conversation was light, surface-level. And while it felt good to laugh, there’s still a part of me waiting for the other shoe to drop. One good evening doesn’t rebuild trust. It’s a start, not a solution.


    🕯 Where I Am Now

    So that’s where I am today: in between emotions. Hopeful but cautious. Tired but proud. Grateful but guarded. And that’s okay. I don’t have to have it all figured out. My only job right now is to keep listening to my intuition, being gentle with myself, and making choices that feel aligned with who I am in this exact moment—not past Bailz, not future Bailz, just right-now Bailz.

    Today, that looks like walking again. Eating a protein-heavy meal. Sitting down to write this even though it scares the absolute shit out of me. Because I know I’d regret staying silent more than I’ll ever regret being honest.

    I’m showing up scared—again—because I know in my gut that it’s the right thing to do.

    Love always,
    Bailz 💜


    PS – 🌿 If you’re walking through something similar — learning to set boundaries, navigating family pain, or just figuring out how to take up space again — I hope my story reminds you that you’re not alone. Healing isn’t linear, but it is possible. One honest moment at a time. 💜

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  • ✨ One Month In: Expanding or Distracting?

    Today marks one month since I officially launched this blog. One month of showing up, writing, sharing, and growing — and of learning a lot about myself along the way. 💜

    When I started, my goal was simple: document the journey honestly. Not just the shiny parts, but the messy, uncertain, vulnerable middle too. And that’s what I’ve tried to do.

    🌙 The Drift I Noticed

    Over the past week, I felt myself quietly shifting away from the heart of this project. I was focusing more on talking about the work than doing the work. I caught myself refreshing notifications instead of reflecting, chasing validation instead of connection. 📱

    At the same time, I’d fallen off my movement routine — fewer walks, less yoga — and my clarity went with it. The fog, the fatigue, the self-doubt crept back in. I know that pattern.

    🌿 The Reset

    So I stepped away for a few days. Fewer screens. More breath. More sunlight. More fetch with the dogs. More gentle movement. I let myself recalibrate. And it helped — I feel clearer, lighter, more like myself again. ☀️🐾

    ✨ What One Month Taught Me

    • Self-discovery isn’t only about expanding; sometimes it’s about contracting and coming home to stillness.
    • Healing doesn’t happen on a screen — the screen can be a doorway, but the work is done in my body, breath, choices, and days. 🫁
    • Movement is medicine. When I move, my mind softens and my spirit returns.
    • Rest isn’t quitting; it’s part of the process. 🌙

    💜 Month Two: My Intention

    I’m going to keep showing up — not for algorithms or approval, but for myself. I’ll stay anchored in my why, let rest count as progress, and do the work even when no one sees it.

    Here’s to one month down, and many more months of showing up — imperfectly, intentionally, and with an open heart. Thank you for being here. You matter more than you know. 🌸

    Love always, Bailz 💜

  • ✨ Better, Not Perfect ✨

    ✨ Better, Not Perfect ✨

    Today has been one of those days that perfectly captures what this whole journey is about — learning to listen to myself, honor my energy, and follow inspiration when it shows up.

    🌙 Gentle Intentions

    This morning, I woke up feeling heavy — emotionally, mentally, energetically. I had what Brené Brown calls a vulnerability hangover. The last few days have been full of openness, honesty, and sharing my truth in big, public ways. It’s all been good — but it’s also been a lot.

    So I decided to post a TikTok earlier today talking about that. About how tired and tender I felt. About the importance of being gentle with myself when I’m stretched thin from growth. I didn’t script it, I didn’t overthink it — I just spoke honestly from where I was.

    After posting, I expected to feel depleted. Instead… I felt lighter. Seen. Proud. Something shifted.

    🔥 Following the Spark

    That tiny act of showing up authentically — even while scared, even while tired — gave me a spark of energy. I didn’t plan to do anything big today. My only goal was to rest and be gentle with myself. But as the day went on, that spark grew.

    Before I knew it, I found myself tidying the house. I didn’t do it because I had to — I did it because I wanted to. Because my space needed love, and so did I. Cleaning didn’t feel like punishment; it felt like self-care.

    And somewhere between doing the dishes and vacuuming, I had an idea for another TikTok. One that felt alive.

    💜 Showing Up Again

    So I set up my phone and recorded it: “Five Things About Me.”

    It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t fancy, but it was me — raw, real, and a little bit weird. And it felt good. Not in a dopamine-rush, validation-seeking way, but in a soul feels lighter kind of way.

    I didn’t post because I felt obligated or because I was chasing momentum — I posted because I felt inspired. Because I felt better, so I did better.

    🌿 The Lesson

    Today reminded me that healing isn’t linear, but it is responsive. When I nurture myself instead of forcing productivity, I actually create energy instead of depleting it.

    That’s what I want more of.
    Not perfect days. Just better ones.
    Days that honor where I’m at while leaving space for what could bloom from there.

    So if you’re reading this and you’ve been hard on yourself lately — please remember: you don’t have to do everything. You just have to do one gentle, honest thing for yourself. The rest will follow. 🌸

    Love always,

    Bailz 💜


    Thank you for being here — truly. If you want to follow along as I keep learning, healing, and showing up (even when it’s scary), you can subscribe below to have each new post sent straight to your inbox.

  • 😳 Showing Up Scared

    😳 Showing Up Scared

    So I did a thing today.

    And it scared the shit out of me… but I did it anyway.

    I posted a video on TikTok. A real one. A talking head vlog. Just me, sitting in my bedroom, introducing myself and this blog and this journey I’m on.

    It was vulnerable. It was awkward. It wasn’t perfect.

    But it was mine. And I am so proud of myself for finally doing it.

    I’ve wanted to share more of myself online for years, but I’ve always talked myself out of it. The fear was louder than the desire. Until today.

    Today, I stopped waiting to feel ready.
    I stopped listening to the voice that says, “No one cares.”
    I stopped hiding.

    And in its place, I just… showed up.

    Even though I was scared.
    Even though my heart was racing.
    Even though I had to start over about ten times before I could get through everything I wanted to say.
    Even though I wanted to take it down immediately after posting it.

    I’m writing this while still feeling a little shaky and overwhelmed. That post-release adrenaline is real. But I’m also writing this while feeling a glimmer of pride and courage — because I did the thing that scared me.

    💜 Growth in Real Time

    That’s what this whole project is about. Not being perfect. Not being polished. Just showing up — scared, messy, human, and real.

    I’m trying new things and letting myself sit in the discomfort instead of avoiding it. It’s scary to put myself out there, and it’s normal and healthy for me to feel scared while doing it. But I’m not going to let that stop me anymore. I’m not going to avoid those harder feelings anymore — at least, that’s the goal.

    Let’s be real, I’m human. I’ll trip up. Last week more than proved that. But now I know the harder feelings aren’t always bad — they’re just different and unfamiliar.

    I’m working on nurturing myself through this growth period. The term “growing pains” exists for a reason (coincidentally, it was also one of my favorite TV shows when I was younger — young Kirk Cameron? Swoon!). It’s not comfortable to expand yourself and push to the edges of safety and vulnerability, but it’s worth it.

    The more I share, the more vulnerable and open I am, the more I see changes in myself — how I talk to myself, how I feel about myself, and how I feel about what I’m doing.

    😬 Feeling the Feelings

    Last night after I published my last post, I was really struggling with the vulnerability. I was so anxious, you guys. I almost immediately wanted to take it down. I worried I came across as whiney, or “woe is me,” or ungrateful. I was scared of what people would think.

    To be honest, I avoided the feelings for a while. I turned on The Office, asked Heath to make me an Old Fashioned (or two), and started drawing on my iPad. I didn’t want to feel those feelings — I wanted to avoid them.

    When I finally looked at the clock and realized it was 2:30 a.m., I realized what I had been doing. My post had made me feel vulnerable, and because I was avoiding that feeling, it wasn’t going away. It was just hanging out under my rib cage — a swirling vortex of nerves.

    So I stopped. I put away the iPad, turned off the TV, laid in bed, and let myself feel my feelings. And a lot came up.

    For a while, I really considered taking down my post. I felt like I was taking up too much space. I worried what people would think about Heath, or my dad, or me. I was scared that my voice and my experiences weren’t valid or worth sharing. I felt like people would think I was trying to be someone I’m not.

    But the truth is, I’m still figuring out who I am — and that’s what all of this has been about.

    🌬️ Breathing Through It

    Instead of giving in to those fears and retreating to safety, I forced myself to breathe through the discomfort. Literally.

    I did some breathing exercises — starting with a 4-4-6 pattern: breathing in for four seconds, holding for four, and breathing out for six. I repeated it a few times, and it’s wild how much it helped. I could actually feel myself come back into my body.

    Once I felt more comfortable, I shifted to a 4-7-8 pattern… and eventually, I fell asleep.

    ☀️ Waking Up Lighter

    I woke up to a beautiful text from one of my absolute favorite humans telling me how proud she was of me for my post. Suddenly, all the things I’d been scared of seemed so small.

    So small, in fact, that I decided to push myself again today — to post a video on TikTok and stretch that comfort zone even further.

    I can see the changes happening in myself. I can see the bravery growing. I never thought I’d be brave enough to start a blog about my life — but I did it anyway, and I’ve kept with it. And it turns out, I really enjoy it.

    I never thought that if I ever did have a blog, I’d share it publicly and actually want people to read it and really see me. But I did it anyway, and the response has been so incredible. I also never thought I’d post a video of myself talking straight to the camera — unscripted, open, raw, unpolished, and real. But I did it anyway.

    It’s scary, and I’m still buzzing, but instead of avoiding the nerves, I’m going to hop into some leggings, pull out my yoga mat, cue up some Yoga With Adriene, and breathe and move through this growing pain.

    💫 Final Thoughts

    If you’re reading this and you’ve been holding back from doing something because you don’t feel ready — I see you. I am you. And I just want to say:

    It’s okay to start scared.
    It’s okay to do the thing while your voice shakes.
    It’s okay to be vulnerable.
    You might be surprised what happens when you do.

    @bailzhasablog

    Doing the thing, even though it’s terrifying. Not striving for perfection, just authenticity. Like and follow for more! 💜 #showingup #tryingnewthings #happinessjourney #creatingthelifeilove

    ♬ original sound – bailzhasablog

    Follow me on TikTok (@bailzhasablog) to see more of this journey. I have no idea what to expect, but I’m nervously excited about it — and I hope you come along for the ride!

    And if you haven’t already, please subscribe here so you never miss a post! You can have it sent right to your inbox as soon as it’s live. 💌

    Thank you for being here and for walking alongside me in this journey. I truly feel like my life is changing — and I’m glad you’re here to witness it.

    Love always,
    Bailz 💜

  • ✨ Aaaaaand We’re Back!

    ✨ Aaaaaand We’re Back!

    Today is the first day I’ve genuinely felt like myself in… honestly, I don’t even know how long. Definitely not since starting this blog. I’ve had flickers of my true self here and there—but they’ve been fleeting.

    This morning, I woke up ready. Ready to participate in my life again. Ready to take the reins.

    Now, I know what you might be thinking: It must be because I finally did all those things I said I would yesterday, right?

    Nope. Not even close. I managed to do a yoga video with Heath, but that is it.

    Instead, Heath and I talked. For hours. And not surface-level, small talk—we had an open, vulnerable, honest conversation that I didn’t realize I’d been aching for. I cracked open, and the floodgates came down. I spoke things I didn’t even know I’d been bottling up.

    And because I’m committed to documenting this journey truthfully, I want to share some of what we talked about—with Heath’s blessing, of course.


    💼 Generational Echoes

    Growing up, and honestly even now, my dad has always been a workaholic. And to be fair—he’s brilliant at what he does. His work ethic is unmatched. But it also meant that work almost always came first. Even on vacations or holidays, he’d be on his laptop, answering emails, solving problems.

    He never missed the big things—he was there, camera in hand, documenting every milestone “for posterity.” But day-to-day? He was rarely fully with us.

    I adore my dad. But I missed him a lot growing up. I wanted more time, more attention, more connection.

    And as they say—we often marry a version of our parents.

    Heath is also a workaholic. And just like my dad, he’s phenomenal at what he does. He manages a large team, he cares deeply about people, and he pours his heart into his job. It’s one of the things I love most about him.

    But sometimes, that passion means there’s not much left for anything else at the end of the day. I often get what feels like scraps of his attention, and I convince myself it’s fine. That I’m strong enough. That this is normal.

    But over time, it chipped away at me.


    😔 Loneliness in the Quiet Moments

    What I hadn’t realized until last night is that the loneliness had grown louder than I’d allowed myself to admit. Even when he was sitting right next to me, I missed him.

    I finally said the words I had been afraid to speak for years:

    “I’m scared you work so much because you don’t want to be home with me.”
    “I’m scared that if I left, you’d be fine—maybe even relieved because you would have more time and energy for work.”
    “I feel like I only get the best version of you when you’re away from work—and the rest of the time, I’m just… managing.”

    I let it all out—my fears, my longing, the echoes of my childhood loneliness. I laid it bare, and for the first time, I felt fully seen.

    He didn’t get defensive. He heard me. And that changed everything.


    ☀️ A New Kind of Morning

    No, I wasn’t asleep by 10 PM. It was closer to 3 AM. But I still woke up lighter.

    I let myself sleep in. Then I got up, brushed my teeth, high-fived myself in the mirror (thanks, Mel Robbins), laced up my sneakers, and stepped onto my walk pad. I walked for 45 minutes and watched The Office, comfort food for my soul.

    (Side note: If you haven’t watched the Superfan episodes on Peacock—what are you even doing? It’s like getting bonus time with old friends. I highly, highly recommend them.)

    After walking, I did some stretches, took some slow, deep belly breaths, and actually felt my body again. Not just existing in it—being in it. Sweaty, a little winded, and so very alive.


    🍝 A Simple Kind of Joy

    After walking, stretching, breathing, and then showering, I volunteered as tribute to go grocery shopping. We needed a few things, so I threw on a cute outfit and made a Trader Joe’s trip feel like a mini adventure.

    No overthinking. No dread. Just me, out in the world, present.

    I sang my heart out to The Tortured Poets Department in the car. I chatted with the cashier. I picked up treats for the dogs. I got complimented on my outfit. And the best part? I didn’t feel overwhelmed once.

    That is HUGE for me.


    🌱 Lighter, Not Fixed (Yet)

    I still have goals I’m not quite meeting. I still have healing to do. But today felt like a turning point.

    All because I said the things I was afraid to say.

    I told the truth—not just to Heath, but to myself.

    And in doing so, I put down a weight I didn’t realize I’d been carrying.

    I feel lighter. I feel more like me.

    I’m not all the way back, but I’m on my way.

    And that, my friends, is enough for today. 💜

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  • Worse Than I Thought

    Worse Than I Thought

    Yesterday, I realized that my mental health had been doing much worse this past week than I wanted to admit. I was in supreme denial about how negative my thoughts had become, how loud they were, and how often they showed up. On top of that, I was beating myself up for even having them.

    I tried to just push through — do the things, stay distracted, and hope I’d magically wake up better one day. But on Saturday, I woke up and couldn’t stop crying.

    “What’s the point of any of this? Why am I even trying? I’ll always struggle. I’ll always hate myself a little bit. I’ll always feel like this.”

    That afternoon, I had tickets to the Life of a Showgirl release party movie with a friend. I knew I needed to get up, shower, and get dressed. But I cried through all of it. I didn’t really pull myself together until about 30 minutes before my friend arrived to pick me up. Even then, I wasn’t myself. I was quiet, going through the motions, and just… sad. I’m glad I went and spent time with my friend, but I didn’t appreciate it in the moment as much as I could have.

    🚩 When the Signs Were There

    Looking back, I should have recognized things were bad on Thursday night/early Friday morning, when the brand-new Taylor Swift album came out. Normally, I love Taylor Swift. Her lyrics have been a lifeline for me for years. But this time, I listened to the album out of obligation more than joy. I didn’t feel excited. I didn’t count down the hours until release. I didn’t make a cute outfit for the party or obsessively check Instagram for Easter egg theories. I just… didn’t care.

    At first, I thought maybe I just didn’t like the album. Now I realize: I didn’t like anything that much at the time.

    🖤 Going Dark

    So on Saturday, while crying through getting ready, I put the album on again to prep for the show. Even after listening through twice, the funk lingered. All through the show, all through the afternoon, I felt completely dark.

    Heath had a company picnic that day, so he was gone most of the afternoon. When he got home, I was a shell of myself on the couch watching Gilmore Girls, barely able to look at him. He could see something was wrong. He started asking gentle questions, and then the last one was:

    “Are you going dark?”
    “Yes.”

    “Dark” is our word for when things feel about as bad as they can get. Saying it out loud helped. Heath gave me a hug, snuggled me on the couch, and watched Gilmore Girls with me for the rest of the night — even asking questions about the characters and plot. (I think he might secretly be becoming a fan!)

    Later, I spoke up and said I wanted chips and queso. We ordered Torchy’s delivery. Never underestimate the healing powers of chips and queso. We talked a little bit, and I felt myself come back — just a bit.

    🌤️ Choosing to Come Back

    Today, mentally, I feel better. I’m not “dark” anymore. But emotionally and physically, I’m drained. I slept until noon, and I still feel like I could crawl back into bed. Now that I’ve acknowledged how bad it was, though, it feels like it has less power over me.

    Looking back, I see how quickly I slipped into old patterns: shaming myself, measuring my worth by productivity, “should-ing” all over myself, dwelling on the past, neglecting my self-care habits. I haven’t done a full yoga practice in over a week. I haven’t been on the walk pad. I haven’t been present.

    So today, I’m making myself a promise:

    • 💜 I will get back on track, gently.
    • 🧘‍♀️ I will do yoga.
    • 🚶 I will walk.
    • 🌌 I will check in with the astrology for this week.
    • 📚 I will read something uplifting about happiness.
    • 📵 I will stay off my phone as much as possible.
    • 🌙 I will start curating a nighttime routine that is authentically me — one that helps me wind down and sleep well.

    My goal is to be in bed and asleep by 10 PM every night. I’m a lifelong night owl, and turning my brain off at bedtime is hard. But this is my project now.

    🔁 Healing Isn’t Linear

    Progress, setbacks, and forward movement again — it’s all part of it. I can still bring myself back. But I can’t keep it bottled up. Speaking up matters. Showing up matters.

    Even when it’s hard.
    Even when it’s messy.
    Even when it’s just a post like this.

    Thank you for being here. 💜


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  • The Little Ways I’m Coming Back to Myself

    The Little Ways I’m Coming Back to Myself

    Hello, friends 👋

    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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  • I’m Just Bailz

    I’m Just Bailz

    One of my goals right now is to be very intentional with the content I’m consuming—whether it’s related to my healing journey or just comfort content I’m using to find balance. If I’m going to sit down and give my attention to something, I want to give it some thought first. I’m letting go of living passively… or at least, I’m trying to.

    A few nights ago, my husband had a work dinner, so I had the evening to myself. I considered reading The Art of Happiness or watching a Mel Robbins podcast on YouTube. But eventually, I realized I was “shoulding” on myself. Deep down, I was craving comfort content. I wanted to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. So I asked myself: what if I chose comfort content I could also explore through the lens of this healing project? Best of both worlds. I put on Barbie.

    I knew I made the right call the second I saw that pink Warner Brothers logo.

    When Barbie first came out, I fell in love with it instantly—like so many others. And something surprising happened… I suddenly loved the color pink. Which was a pretty big deal for me.

    See, for most of my adult life, I was staunchly anti-pink. I never really examined why. I just told myself I didn’t like pink. I repeated it constantly—if I had a choice of colors, I’d skip over pink every time. I didn’t consider myself a “girlie girl,” and pink was for girlie girls. Those were the rules. So it wasn’t for me. Flawless logic, right? Oh, younger Bailz. So rigid in her thinking.

    But after watching Barbie, I had to pause and reconsider. Why had I stopped liking pink?

    I remembered liking it as a kid. I’ve always been a purple girlie, but pink was never the enemy. Somewhere along the way, though, it became something I avoided. And as I sat with it, I realized what had happened: society taught me that being “girlie” was weak. Pink was girlie. Therefore, pink was weak. And I did not want to be seen as weak. I was such a Sasha at the beginning of the movie, you guys. So very much.

    But I didn’t realize I was even thinking that way until Barbie helped me see it.

    Gloria’s “It is literally impossible to be a woman” monologue cracked something open in me. It felt like being gently shaken awake from a life I didn’t realize I had been sleeping through. The timing couldn’t have been more aligned.

    Just a few months earlier, in May of 2023, I had been diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and started chemo. It was the hardest season of my life—and the most transformative. I had lived in fear for so long: fear of rejection, of not being enough, of being too much. Fear of life itself, honestly. But cancer forced me to face things head-on. I knew I wanted to approach this new chapter differently. And the messages in Barbie were exactly what I needed to hear as I began rewriting everything.

    The line that gutted me most wasn’t what I would have guessed. And it wasn’t from a Barbie. It came from a Ken—after the Barbies had reclaimed Barbie Land. He says, “We were fighting because we didn’t know who we were.”

    And just like that, something clicked in my brain.

    I didn’t really know who I was either. And not knowing who you are creates friction with the world—friction that shows up everywhere, from how you show up at work to how you talk to yourself when no one’s around. But like my relationship with pink, I hadn’t seen the pattern until I paused long enough to ask why.

    This movie became a landmark on my personal growth map. It genuinely changed the way I see myself and the world. So of course, it made sense to return to it now, as comfort content I could experience through the lens of intentional healing.

    One of the coolest things about re-watching something (or re-reading, or re-listening) is that the content stays the same, but I’ve changed. I’m not the same person who watched it the first time. So I notice different things. Different characters and messages resonate. I bring new insights and lived experiences to the table.

    When I first saw Barbie, I related deeply to Ken. I felt invisible. I felt like I only mattered if I had approval from others. I was struggling in every area of my life. But when I rewatched it this week, I saw myself more in Stereotypical Barbie. I feel like I’ve metaphorically chosen the Birkenstock. I’m on this journey to find myself, to heal, to celebrate who I am.

    There will be hard days. I will absolutely feel like Depression Barbie sometimes. I expect that. But I’m not afraid of it anymore. I’m learning to be okay with the mess of it. I’m reconnecting with my inner child. I know this work is worth doing.

    Being intentional with my content is helping me stay present and mindful. It’s reminding me that I can be gentle with myself—rest, comfort myself with familiar favorites, and still be awake to new insights. I can take care of my heart and mind at the same time.

    Also, like Ruth, I too always think best at kitchen tables. That’s where I’m sitting now, writing this post. It’s where I’ve written most of them, actually.

    Thank you for being here. Thank you for witnessing this season of rediscovery. Stay tuned for more tales from the life of Bailz. 💜