Yesterday marked four months of Bailz has a Blog, which honestly feels a little surreal. Part of me feels like I just started, and part of me feels like I’ve been doing this much longer than four months. Both parts of me are incredibly proud.
After spending so much of my life living in fear, it feels really amazing to be sharing my life, my journey, my thoughts, my feelings, and my experiences with all of you lovely people. Creating this space has easily been one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. I started scared… and I kept showing up. And here we are. 💜
🐾 Remembering Chelsea
Yesterday was also Chelsea’s Gotcha Day. We lost her in September, and while we know it was the right decision and we’re grateful she’s no longer in pain, it was still a hard day.
I miss her smile and her sass. She was truly one of a kind. 🤍
❄️ Deep in Wintering
I’m still very much in my wintering phase, and I’m honestly enjoying it more than I ever expected. I’m hibernating. I’m cocooning. I’m resting, healing, and honoring the process to the best of my ability.
Each day, I feel a little more calm — and that realization alone has been huge. I’m starting to feel present in my body and in my life in a way I don’t think I ever have consistently before.
For most of my life, rest came with criticism. Wanting rest came with shame. Enjoyment came with a warning not to get used to it. Quiet moments felt wasted. My mind was always racing, multitasking, performing, trying to impress — and I was never fully in any moment.
Now I see how deeply that hurt me.
These days, quiet moments are the goal. 🤍
📖 Reading Slowly, On Purpose
I’m still working my way through The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle, and I’m intentionally taking my time with it. Throughout the book, Tolle includes small pause symbols, encouraging the reader to stop, become still, and really experience what’s just been read before moving on.
That practice has been exactly what I needed.
Before starting this book, I had already noticed how much I rushed through everything I read. I knew it was a problem, but I didn’t really know how to fix it. These built-in pauses have been helping me learn how to slow down and absorb instead of sprinting to the next page. I’m also really enjoying the question-and-answer format — it feels approachable and grounding.
More than anything, the book has helped me realize how much priority I’ve always given to thinking and analyzing — and how much pain, stress, and anxiety that ultimately caused me. The more I take my thoughts as absolute truth, the more power I give away.
So now, I’m practicing being what Tolle calls “the watcher” of my thoughts and emotions, rather than letting them become my identity. It’s a slow practice, but one that’s already changing so much for me.
🩺 Signs of Real Progress
On Monday, I had my third set of progress scans with the chiropractor, and the results were honestly incredible. Comparing my original scans from October to my current ones, I can hardly believe how much progress I’ve made in such a short amount of time.
Because of that improvement, I’ve been cleared to reduce my visits from three times a week to two times a week. Going forward, I’ll be going on Mondays and Thursdays, and we’ll reassess in a month.
It’s a bittersweet feeling. I’m incredibly grateful for the healing — releasing tension and trauma from my body has been life-changing. But I’m also a little sad about the routine change. That office has become a home away from home, and even on my hardest days, I’ve looked forward to being there.
Today is the first Wednesday I haven’t gone, and it feels… weird. Like I’m forgetting something. But I also know this change is a sign of growth — and that matters.
(And yes, I am very excited to go tomorrow. 😅)
🧘♀️ Listening to My Body
Overall, my body feels so much better. I’m holding far less tension, my stress levels are lower than they’ve ever been, my neck and shoulders feel better, and I’m sleeping more deeply.
The one area still holding tightness is my hips, so I’ve been using yoga to focus on hip and lower back opening. I can already feel the difference — physically and emotionally. I feel more fluid and less rigid, and that shift has been really powerful.
🛁 A Little Extra Care
Today, I leaned into some extra self-care, and I’m feeling deeply relaxed.
I started with yoga — some focused on hip opening, some restorative and meditative. Then I made a DIY face mask with plain Greek yogurt and raw honey, soaked in a bath with a Flewd bath soak, scrubbed head to toe with a Dead Sea salt scrub, shaved my legs, and moisturized thoroughly.
I feel pampered, calm, and really proud of myself for taking care of my body and my nervous system. ✨
🌱 Simple, Not Easy
This part of my journey may not look glamorous or exciting — but that doesn’t make it any less important. Slowing down and being present sounds simple, but it’s not easy. It’s taken weeks for it to feel less strange.
I’m not perfect at it. It’s a practice. But I’m getting better every day — and that feels pretty amazing.
I hope you can take a few moments to slow down today too. Check in with yourself. Be present where you are. I promise, it’s worth it.
Thank you for being here. I’m so incredibly grateful for you. 💜
Last week, my therapist recommended a book to me called Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May, and it has really helped shift my perspective on this entire process I have been going through.
Before I started reading this book, I had no idea just how much pressure I was putting on myself to always be doing more. I was so strict and rigid with myself, and I expected myself to be so much further along than I was.
I was neglecting to acknowledge everything I was trying to heal from — I just wanted to be healed.
🧠 The Pressure I Didn’t Realize I Was Carrying
Some days, I was accomplishing a lot and sticking to my routines, but some days I was struggling more than I let myself realize and therefore was beating myself up a lot.
There was more consistency than I have ever had before, but it was not nearly 100%, and deep down, I was ashamed of it. I was ashamed of what I was doing or not doing, of the fact that I was “weak” and needed to take this time to figure my shit out.
I felt like I needed to be strict and rigid with myself to somehow earn this period of healing. That I needed to make radical changes in short amounts of time and force this growth as if it were my job so that I could justify the space I was taking up on this planet.
I was not being very kind or patient with myself at all.
Even though I thought I was trying to be gentle with myself — I told myself I was, I wrote here about how I was — ultimately I was never really succeeding. I liked the idea of being gentle with myself, but to be honest, I had really no idea how to actually execute it in practice, because I never learned how to.
It was never modeled for me when I was growing up. I never saw it in action. It was never really encouraged. All I have ever known is self criticism, so breaking the cycle has been quite the challenge.
⏳ Rest Used to Feel Like “Wasting Time”
Prior to starting this book, anytime I was resting during a non-designated rest or sleep time, I was thinking to myself that I should be working on something else. I should be reading. I should be writing a blog post. I should be practicing piano. I should be up on the walk pad. I should be cleaning the house.
And yes — all of those things are valid uses of my time. But I was tired. My body was telling me to rest. Instead of appreciating the message from my body, I was shaming myself. Telling myself that I shouldn’t be tired, that if I rest now, I’m wasting time and throwing off my sleep schedule.
📚 What “Wintering” Taught Me
Then I started reading Wintering, and it has helped immensely.
May explains Wintering as:
“a time of withdrawing from the world, maximizing scant resources, carrying out acts of brutal efficiency and vanishing from sight; but thats where the transformation occurs. Winter is not the death of the life cycle, but its crucible… Doing those deeply unfashionable things — slowing down, letting your spare time expand, getting enough sleep, resting — is a radical act now, but it is essential.”
I didn’t realize it at first, but I was absolutely thinking of this season I’m going through as a spring — a rebirth of some sort. I was expecting to just become this whole new version of myself overnight through sheer will.
I was trying to skip over the wintering completely.
I felt that by slowing down, I was wasting this time and opportunity when I could be doing so much more. I had given myself a few weeks at the beginning of all this to slow down (or so I thought), and I told myself that was plenty and it was time to push through and move on and get to the doing and growing and healing.
As I have been working my way through this book, I have realized that the rest and the slowing down is exactly what this time is for. That by not utilizing this time to do that, I am in fact wasting this opportunity.
🌙 Letting the Season Be What It Is
So, that is what I am trying to really focus on.
Prior to starting this book and shifting my perspective, I was feeling a little bit frustrated that I was going through this experience going into the winter months. I wanted to be in the summer with the sun rising earlier and setting later so I could work on my circadian rhythm easier.
I was feeling frustrated over the evenings arriving earlier and earlier each day. I was fussing over the fact that I needed to wear more and more layers as the temperatures fell. I was just resisting every bit of it because I was trying to race ahead to spring and summer — literally and figuratively.
But now that I have taken a step back and realized that the process of wintering is absolutely necessary in order to have a successful spring, I am so very grateful that my winter of life is also falling during the physical seasonal winter.
All those things I was resisting — the shorter days, the lower temperatures, the extra layers — now I see them as benefits, so I am leaning into them.
Now I am going to focus on hibernating like my life depends on it, because you know what? It kind of does. ❄️
🛌 Practicing Rest, Presence, and “Awareness Without Judgment”
The past few days I have spent quite a bit of time in bed, reading and resting and resisting the urge to rush.
I am trying not to scroll on my phone as much, trying to be present in my relaxation. I am spending time in bed just thinking/meditating and it’s been odd but really nice.
I am napping when I am tired. I am listening to my body.
I am still mindful of my nighttime and morning routines, but I am not beating myself up for any deviations from them. If I wake up feeling like I need to go back to sleep for a little bit longer, I am letting myself do it.
If I am struggling to go to sleep and decide I am going to stay up and read for a little bit longer until I really do start to feel sleepy, I am letting myself do it.
I am just trying to be in the moment more, listen to my body more, and overall let go of the reins a little bit.
I really was being so strict with myself and so rigid. I was holding myself to an impossibly high standard for what I am going through, and it was ultimately becoming a detriment.
I am trying to bring a lot of awareness into my days — awareness without judgment. I am trying to pay attention to where my thoughts are going, how my body is feeling, how my spirit is feeling, and simply notice those things instead of judging or criticizing myself for them.
I am trying to approach everything through a lens of curiosity instead — curiosity and kindness and compassion. 💜
I have also started gratitude journaling before bed each night. I spend a few moments writing down everything I am thankful for, and that has been very helpful in keeping me present as well.
🤍 Choosing Honesty (Even When Hustle Culture Says Otherwise)
This bit of the journey may not be glamorous or exciting. It may not be the most captivating thing to read about — but it’s where I am right now.
There is a part of me that is scared to talk about all of this, to be broadcasting the fact that I am actively trying to do less in a world where hustling is king.
But when I created this space, I vowed to be honest and transparent and vulnerable with you all, so I am going to hold myself to that and keep showing up — even when there isn’t a whole lot to say.
I had been flailing a bit trying to hold onto some direction and growth and progress that just wasn’t sticking, but now I know that this is not the time for that. This is not my spring yet. This is my winter, and I need to respect that.
I am wintering, and I am going to give it my all. ❄️
💬 A Question for You
Have you ever had a season of life where rest was the work? If you feel comfortable sharing — what did your “wintering” look like, and what helped you soften into it? 🤍
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It’s been a few days since my last post, and I’ve really been trying to slow down and focus on being gentle with myself. Although, admittedly, I’ve been struggling with it. I’m feeling better today, but the in-between was rougher than I anticipated.
After my post on Friday, I felt a huge amount of vulnerability. On one hand, I was incredibly proud of myself for sharing everything I did. But at the same time, I felt pretty depleted — it took a lot of energy to muster up the courage to say those things out loud.
🎵 The Concert I Almost Skipped (But Absolutely Needed)
Friday night we went to a concert, and every bit of me wanted to skip it. I was drained, I was tired, I was not feeling 100% by any means. But we were going to see one of Heath’s favorite bands, NEEDTOBREATHE, and we’d had these tickets for months. I couldn’t bring myself to deprive him of the experience, so I pushed through — and I am so glad I did. I know without a doubt that I was supposed to be there.
The opener was a woman named Bre Kennedy. I had never heard of her before, but now? I absolutely love her. From the very first song, she grabbed my heart and didn’t let it go. Her voice was stunning, her lyrics beautiful, and I was literally moved to tears. And once they started, they didn’t stop.
But of course — my inner critic immediately piped up:
“Oh my god, stop crying! People are going to see you! What are they going to think?!”
Still, for one of the first times in a long time, I chose not to listen. I let the tears flow. I stayed in the moment. I let myself feel.
And yes, I ugly cried through most of her set. And I regret nothing.
📚 The Alchemist, Omens, and the Nudge I Needed
During her set, Bre talked about her upcoming album, The Alchemist, named after Paulo Coelho’s book. This hit me hard. I had bought that book on my last trip to Guthrie, started reading it, then put it on the shelf when I got home because I became wrapped up in all my Happiness Project reading.
The moment she mentioned it, I knew I needed to pick it back up again.
After the show, Heath noticed me eyeing her at the merch table and asked if I wanted to meet her. My instinct was no, because interacting with people I admire makes me panic — but I said yes.
I told her how much her music moved me, how I cried through the whole thing, and how she inspired me to restart The Alchemist. She was so kind, so gracious, so warm. I almost cried again talking to her. I’m so glad I took the chance.
The next day, I restarted The Alchemist from the beginning, and instantly felt immersed again — in the story, the Personal Legend, the Soul of the World, the omens. It reinforced everything I’ve been feeling lately:
I am in the messy middle. I am doing the work. And I am on the right path.
🌿 Therapy, Inner Critics, and Blooming Slowly
I had therapy yesterday, and it went really well. Each session makes me more confident that I’ve finally found the right therapist. We talked a lot about childhood trauma and how those experiences still color the way I treat myself now — especially the way my inner critic talks to me.
You would think that getting sober is a HUGE accomplishment that even my inner critic couldn’t argue with, right? Wrong.
She said:
“Obviously you should be sober! Why didn’t you do it sooner? You’re so late to the game!”
She can be… a lot.
I told my therapist how I’m struggling with wanting everything to happen faster — I want to be further along than I am. And she gave me an analogy that struck me deeply:
When a flower blooms, it expands… and then it pauses. It contracts a little to gather energy. Without those pauses, it wouldn’t bloom at all — its petals would fall off.
WOW. I loved that.
It was exactly what I needed. I don’t want to lose my petals. I want to bloom slowly and stay intact. That means I have to pause. I have to rest. I have to let myself contract so I can grow again.
The past few days have been my pause-and-contract phase. Today, I feel like I’m blooming again.
📖 Books, Chiropractic Care, and Little Moments of Self-Care
My therapist recommended a new book — Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Difficult Times by Katherine May — and it arrived today. I’m excited to start it tonight.
This morning I went to the chiropractor, then this afternoon I got a haircut. It felt so nice to pamper myself a little.
Tomorrow morning I have my second progress scan with the chiropractor. The first scan showed enormous improvement and brought me to tears. I know this next one will too.
I feel so much more centered, grounded, and connected to my body than I did even a month ago. These adjustments have helped regulate my nervous system in ways I didn’t even realize were possible.
💜 Gratitude for Where I Am Now
Instead of focusing on “what ifs,” I’m focusing on gratitude.
I am grateful that I have the opportunity to do this work. Grateful that I can afford therapy and chiropractic care. Grateful that I have a husband who encourages me every step of the way. Grateful that I quit my job when I did. Grateful that I started my blog, found my chiropractor, found my therapist, quit drinking, quit smoking — when I did.
I’m following the omens. I’m working toward my own Personal Legend. It’s messy. It’s beautiful. And I feel so lucky to be here.
I am doing this for every younger version of me who couldn’t. For every future version of me who will benefit. And for the current version of me who keeps showing up — on the good days and the harder ones too.
💬 A Question for You
Before you go, I’d love to hear from you:
Where are you in your own blooming process right now — expanding, contracting, or somewhere beautifully in between?
Share in the comments if you feel comfortable. Your story might be exactly what someone else needs to hear today. 🌿
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Today I want to talk about my sobriety. I’ll be honest, I have very bittersweet feelings about it. On one hand, I am incredibly proud of myself. Like, over-the-moon proud. Not just because I saw what needed to be done and did it, but because I’ve done it on my own, cold turkey.
I decided I wasn’t going to drink or smoke anymore and, with the exception of that small glass of champagne at dinner last weekend, I haven’t since November 17th. I haven’t sought out a drink, I haven’t ordered one, I haven’t made one. I haven’t smoked a bowl or lit up a joint or taken a gummy. I am actively getting sober all on my own, and that is huge.
And at the very same time, I am grieving. Drinking, vaping, and THC have all been woven through my life and identity for years. Letting them go feels like losing old (very toxic) friends. Two things can be true at once: I’m deeply proud of myself, and I’m deeply sad.
My complicated relationship with alcohol
Drinking has been part of my life since I was 18. Even before I had my first drink, I already had an unhealthy relationship with alcohol in my head. I built this story that alcohol would help me fit in, make me “cool,” make me easier to be around. I believed that if I could drink a lot, people would be impressed by me.
I sought it out at parties, with friends, anywhere I could. I wanted to feel buzzed, if not outright drunk. I wanted to escape, even though I never would have called it that back then. I told myself I was just “taking the edge off” or being social. It felt like a tool to turn down the volume on my anxiety and my overthinking. If I had a drink in my hand, I convinced myself I was easier to be around, less awkward, less “too much.”
I drank whether I was out with friends or at home by myself. I was drinking almost every single night unless I was sick, and even on those nights, I felt sad and disappointed that I “couldn’t” drink. Looking back, it’s painfully clear that I was actively numbing feelings I didn’t want to deal with. It was always easier to pour another glass of wine than to sit with myself and admit something needed to change.
A long chapter with nicotine
Before I ever started drinking, there were cigarettes. I started smoking when I was 17, another desperate attempt to numb big feelings and try to fit in or become someone I thought would be easier to love.
When I got to college, it really took off. I was smoking about a pack a day and I thought I was so cool for it. I was a moody English major at UGA, so of course I framed it as leaning into the “aesthetic.” I knew it was bad for me, but I told myself, “I’m young, I’ll quit later, it’ll be fine.” I loved the ritual: going outside, taking a break from everything else, just focusing on the cigarette. I really did love it.
When I turned 23, vaping started becoming a thing and I tried it. Almost immediately, I switched from cigarettes to vapes. I could smoke inside now—big win, right? It was terrible and great at the same time. I vaped like a chimney until I was 31, and then when the negative side effects (like a perpetual sore throat and feeling constantly off) outweighed the high, I decided to quit. I quit cold turkey—no patches, no gum, just done. The withdrawal was absolute hell, but I did it. And I was so, so proud.
Then, about two years ago, right after I created distance with my family and fell into heavy grief, I started hanging out with a new friend who vaped. One night, after a little too much wine, I asked if I could just have one puff. I told myself it was no big deal. Huge mistake.
She had a disposable with her and offered it to me to keep since there “wasn’t much left.” I told myself I could control it. Spoiler: I absolutely could not. As soon as it ran out, I bought more. Before I knew it, I was vaping like a chimney again and ordering them online in bulk so I’d never run out.
Very quickly, I was right back in addiction. I felt ashamed, disappointed, and embarrassed. I had been so proud to have quit, and then I threw all that work away for “just one puff.” I leaned hard on vaping again as a coping mechanism, and it was unhealthy on every level—physically, emotionally, mentally.
Finally, a few months ago, I’d had enough. I threw all my vapes away. Again, the withdrawal process was hell, but I got through it. Twice now, I have quit nicotine cold turkey. I think that experience gave me the courage and proof I needed to admit that I could also get sober from alcohol and THC.
My long love affair with THC
I started smoking weed toward the end of college, and pretty quickly it became a daily thing alongside the alcohol. Once again, I told myself it made me fun and interesting and that people would be impressed that I smoked and drank as much as I did. I wore it like a badge of honor, when really it was a giant red flag.
I leaned on THC heavily for a long time—not just for my anxiety, but also for my appetite. When I was struggling to eat, I told myself that weed “helped.” And sometimes it did make me hungry. But by the time it kicked in, I was usually too tired or out of it to make a real meal. So most of the time, I ended up eating tons of ultra-processed snack foods that only made everything worse.
When I was going through chemo, I grabbed onto THC even tighter. I didn’t want to take all the prescription anti-nausea meds; I didn’t want more chemicals in my system than I already had from chemo. Weed was a more “natural” option, and it worked quickly for the nausea, so I convinced myself it was good for me and that I needed it.
Up until very recently, I was numbing myself daily with some mix of alcohol, THC, and nicotine. Now that I’ve stepped back, it’s very clear how much that contributed to my burnout—physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. I was running from myself in every direction.
Realizing “cutting back” wasn’t enough
For a while, I tried to compromise with myself. I said I would only drink on weekends. I’d only smoke before meals “so I could eat enough.” I tried to negotiate with my addictions like they were reasonable roommates instead of what they really were—escape hatches that kept me stuck.
But the more I “cut back,” the more I noticed I was counting down to the next time I was “allowed” to have a drink or smoke. My whole brain would orient around that next moment of relief. And as soon as I realized that, I knew I had a bigger problem on my hands.
So I made the hard decision: no more “cutting back,” just no more. No more nicotine. No more THC. No more alcohol. Cold turkey.
I am incredibly proud of myself for that. And I am also very much grieving. These vices became huge parts of my personality and my routines. They were my constant companions when I felt lonely, overwhelmed, or “too much.”
Two things can be true: proud and grieving
Last night, I got really sad about all of this. Not because I doubt my decision—I know this is the right choice for me—but because I am finally allowing myself to feel the grief beneath the habits.
I’m sad for the younger versions of me who didn’t believe she was worth quitting for. The versions of me who didn’t think she had the strength to stop, who was so afraid of her own feelings that she’d rather numb them out every single night than risk being “too sensitive” in front of anyone.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been told I was “too sensitive,” like it was a character flaw. So I adapted. I learned how to shove big feelings down and drown them in a glass or a puff or an edible instead of letting anyone see them. It felt safer to numb than to risk being shamed again.
Now I’m realizing that if I truly want to heal, I have to learn how to feel my feelings in real time, in their full intensity, without immediately reaching for something to shut them off. And in order to do that, I have to let go of the things that help me numb.
So that’s what I’m doing. And it is hard. It is also beautiful. Two things can be true at once.
Learning to actually feel my feelings
Last night in bed, I was thinking about all of this and I realized I wanted to write about it today. I decided I was finally ready to share this part of my journey in detail here.
As I lay there, specific memories started surfacing—times when I wanted to drink, times when I drank way too much, times when I wanted to smoke, times when I got way too high, and most importantly, the “why” underneath all of it. And instead of shoving those feelings back down or distracting myself, I just let myself cry.
I breathed through it. I let my chest ache. I let the tears come. And then, surprisingly, the wave passed a lot quicker than I expected and I was actually able to fall asleep pretty easily afterward.
I’ve cried a few times while writing this post too. Same thing—it moved through me faster because I didn’t slam the door on it. I let the energy move instead of trying to hold it in or cover it up.
Letting myself feel my feelings sounds like the most basic thing in the world, but for me, it’s brand new. I’ve struggled with this my whole life. So being able to do it even a few times feels huge. And I know I’m only able to do it now because I’ve given myself the space to get sober. I’ve taken the numbing mechanisms off the table so I can actually hear myself.
I am incredibly proud of myself. I am also grieving. Two things can be true at once, and I am making space for both.
Let’s talk about it 💬
Have you ever given up a habit, coping mechanism, or identity that felt like “part of you,” even when you knew it wasn’t healthy? How did you navigate the grief and the growth that came with that change?
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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?
📬 Want to follow along?
If this resonated with you, I’d love to have you stick around. 💌 Subscribe below to get new posts delivered straight to your inbox — no algorithms, no pressure, just honest updates from my healing journey as they unfold.
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?
If you’re loving these posts and want to follow along with every win, wobble, lesson, and breakthrough — subscribe below so you never miss a moment. I’d love to have you on this ride with me. ✨
Yesterday I had my first appointment with my new therapist, and I am very optimistic about the work we’re going to do together.
When I got to her office and sat down on the couch, the first thing she asked me was, “How does it feel to be sitting in here?” and I immediately got choked up and shed a few tears. Not because I was sad or feeling anything negative, but because I was just so proud of myself for doing all of the work to get myself there. So that’s what I told her.
🌱 Being Seen & Recognizing the Work
We talked about a lot during the hour, and the whole time I just had this overwhelming feeling that I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
I told her about all of the work I have already started doing on my own, specifically focusing on my nutrition, exercise routines, and my sleep hygiene. She made a point to tell me how big of a deal all of that was, and while I do know that I have been doing the work and it’s hard and I’ve made some progress, I have kind of been in denial about all the positive changes and truly just how hard the work I have been doing has been.
Because of the environment I was raised in and my childhood experiences, my instinct is to poke holes in the good things before anyone else can. I tend to lean very hard on self-deprecating humor, and I have a hard time accepting compliments or any sort of positive remarks. It’s definitely a pattern.
But she really made a point to acknowledge the work I have already done on my own and make sure that I realize how big of a deal it all is. And I really had to stop and think about it. I got choked up and teary all over again.
I know that I have been making some big changes and I know that they’ve been hard, but I have given myself very little opportunity to really stop and appreciate that. To appreciate that it would be so much easier to just keep things how they were, to stick with what I know, and that I am choosing to do the hard work because I deeply want a better and happier and healthier life. And that I am not waiting for anyone to swoop in and save me anymore — I am doing the work myself. And she’s right, that is huge.
I’ve been so focused on learning more, doing more, and getting better that I have not let myself stop and appreciate where I am now. And I think that is how I got into the mess I got into this weekend, which is still lingering a bit as I write this today. I haven’t been appreciating my victories; I’ve just been raising the bar higher and higher.
My intentions are good — I want to get better. But part of getting better is being present. And that is something I really struggle with if I’m not paying close attention to my attention.
🧘♀️ Listening to My Body
So when I got home from my appointment yesterday, I took some time to rest and just be gentle with myself with a lot of intention. I made myself a healthy meal, I got on the walk pad after I ate, and then I snuggled up on the couch and watched an episode of the Mel Robbins podcast.
I listened to my body and ate when I was hungry, even though it was not a “regular” meal time. I got my body moving when I felt some built-up energy looking for somewhere to go, and then I sought comfort mixed with some learning when I was ready to let my body rest.
I slowed down and I really listened to my body — and my body rewarded me with allowing me to sleep through the night again. HUZZAH! 🌙
I still woke up tired and a little groggy; it definitely took a bit for me to really feel awake and alert. But I was so excited that I had really slept that I didn’t even mind being so tired. I got up and did my morning pages and affirmations, I made myself my usual breakfast shake, I stretched out a bit, and then I got dressed and ready for the day.
🌤 Sunshine, Lunch & Saying No to the Drink
First I went to the chiropractor for my adjustment, and it felt incredible as always. After that, I headed to downtown Fort Worth to have lunch with my friend that I had rescheduled with on Monday.
Texas still hasn’t gotten the memo that it’s November, so the weather was sunny, warm, and downright beautiful. We sat outside and had a lovely meal and just chatted about all the things — memories from over a decade ago, updates from the years that have passed in between, and things that we’re dealing with now. Solid girls’ lunch all around.
While all of that was delightful, my anxiety was pretty high through the whole thing because we were in the heart of downtown. Parking was kind of a nightmare, it was super busy all around, construction everywhere. It was just a lot. Normally when I go downtown for anything, I am not the one driving (thank you, Heath!), so navigating it all put my nerves on edge to begin with. Then parking and walking through the city by myself set me on edge even more.
I was also nervous that my friend was upset with me for having to reschedule (she was not) and I was so worried that she was going to give me shit for it (she would never) that I got myself worked up into a tizzy.
By the time I got to the restaurant, I was pretty frazzled, but overall happy to be with my friend. She arrived a few minutes before me and had ordered a mimosa flight. I was VERY tempted to order a drink for myself as well. I came very, very close.
I am a sucker for a Bloody Mary and I very much wanted something to calm my nerves in the moment. But I knew if I had one, I would almost certainly end up having two as we sat and talked, and then my anxiety would inevitably skyrocket later in the day. I also knew that I would be disappointed with myself. I set a goal that I would no longer be drinking during the week, and I didn’t want to break that promise to myself. I saw how the alcohol this weekend affected my mental health, specifically my anxiety, so I stuck with water for lunch — and I am very, very proud of myself for that.
That is a win. That is a little change with a big impact. A little choice with a whole lot of significance. 💧
⚖️ Holding the Vulnerability
Even though I didn’t drink, I still felt on edge for a lot of the time. It had nothing to do with her or the food or the conversation or anything like that. I think I am just still finding my balance from this weekend.
Plus, therapy yesterday — while wonderful — also brought up a lot of old wounds that don’t just go away because I left the therapist’s office. I am still feeling vulnerable and a little drained from it. That is normal, and I need to acknowledge that.
I didn’t want to reschedule again, even though I was tired going into lunch to begin with. I wanted to see my friend, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. She is only in town for a short time and I didn’t want to waste my opportunity to see her. So I powered through, and I am glad I did. But I am definitely feeling the effects.
🧘♀️ Yoga, Baths & Letting My Nervous System Catch Up
After we said our goodbyes and I started heading home, I felt myself get really, really tired. I knew that all of that had taken a lot of energy, and so instead of pushing myself and trying to force some chores around the house or get started on this post, I put on my PJs, curled up on the couch, and started watching My Neighbor Totoro.
When I started to feel myself dozing off a bit, I turned it off because I didn’t want to miss anything. I decided to move into the bed and just commit to a nap there.
But when I laid down and really tried to sleep, I felt a lot of nervous energy still bouncing around in my chest, and I couldn’t get my thoughts to slow down enough to really rest. So I ended up getting back up and doing some Yoga With Adriene. I started with a practice focused on regulating the nervous system. When I was done with that one, I still felt a little off, so then I did another one specifically for overthinking.
After that, I drew myself a bath and let myself soak for 30 minutes and listen to some music and just breathe.
I am feeling a little better now — definitely not as anxious, but still tired and definitely excited for bed tonight.
📊 Looking Ahead: Progress & Gentleness
Tomorrow I have my first progress appointment with the chiropractor to redo all of my scans and see how far I’ve come since I started getting adjusted three times a week. I am VERY excited.
I’m sure there will still be some problem areas that stand out — I’m only one-third of the way through my 90-day care plan, there’s still work to be done. But I can feel a significant shift in how my body feels day to day, and I am excited to see visual representations of how far I have come.
Tonight I am going to continue being gentle with myself. I’m going to make myself a nice healthy meal, and I’m going to crawl into bed early and read until I fall asleep.
I hope that I have another night of uninterrupted sleep ahead of me. But I also know that if I don’t, it doesn’t negate all the progress I’ve made. I will be gentle with myself and focus on breathing deeply and meditating until I fall back asleep.
💬 Let’s Reflect Together
💜 If this resonated, leave a comment — I’d love to hear how you’re navigating your own healing journey.
Have you ever surprised yourself by how much progress you’ve made without realizing it?
What’s one habit you’ve worked hard to build that you’re proud of?
📬 Stay Connected
If you’ve been enjoying following along on my healing journey — the messy parts, the breakthroughs, the small victories, and the tiny-but-mighty shifts — I’d love for you to stick around. Subscribe below so you never miss a new post. We’re learning, growing, and figuring this out together. 💜
Unfortunately, I am still not sleeping through the night. Although, the experience has shifted. I am no longer waking up drenched in night sweats (HOORAY! 🙌) — but now, instead of 3 AM, my body stirs at 4:45 AM.
At first, I chalked it up to the time change and my system still adjusting to my new sleep rhythm. But when it continued, I got curious — and looked into what that time means through the lens of Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM).
🌬️ The 4:45 AM Connection — Lung Time
According to the TCM body clock, 4:45 AM falls within the Lung time, which governs breath, grief, letting go, and renewal.
So what does that mean for me? It’s actually a good sign. It means my liver is no longer stagnant — the focus has now shifted to my lungs for deeper processing and emotional release. The energy is moving, evolving, and finding balance.
It feels like progress — slow, steady, sacred progress. ✨
🍃 What I’m Doing to Support My Lungs
I asked ChatGPT to help me map out a gentle plan to support lung qi, and here’s what I’m incorporating this week:
🌿 Herbal Support
Continue nightly tea (peppermint + milk thistle + dandelion root) for liver support
Add morning peppermint tea to open and nourish the lung channel
🌸 Breathwork
Gentle breathing exercises when I wake up at night
Deep, slow inhalations through the nose; soft, extended exhales through the mouth
☕ Nourishment
More bone broth, oats, and warm lemon water for moisture and warmth
Soothing, comforting foods to nurture lung energy
💫 Movement + Ritual
Upper-body stretching morning and night to open the chest
Rubbing castor oil + peppermint essential oil on my chest before bed (using an old shirt or castor oil pack because castor oil stains!)
While I’d love a full, uninterrupted night of sleep, I’m also proud of how attuned I’m becoming to my body — learning its signals, honoring its wisdom, and celebrating each new layer of healing. 🌙
🕊️ Healing, One Step at a Time
This journey has transformed every part of me — physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. Each small shift feels like a new chapter opening.
On Thursday, I reached out to a therapist whose profile deeply resonated with me — and within hours, I was on a consultation call with her. We talked about trauma, healing goals, and approaches to therapy, and the connection felt instantaneous.
By the end of our call, I cried — not out of fear, but out of relief. Because for the first time in a long while, I felt truly seen and understood. It just felt right.
Now I’m scheduled for my first appointment on Tuesday, and I couldn’t be more excited to continue this healing process with her guidance.
I know that I’m doing a pretty great job with everything I’ve been doing on my own, but I also know I can only go so far solo. I need support, coaching, and encouragement for the moments when things get heavy again. So I used the positive momentum I’m riding now to take care of the future version of me who might not have the energy to ask for help when she really needs it. 💫
💖 Following My Intuition
Over the past few months, I’ve made so many intuitive decisions that have reshaped my life:
Chiropractic Care: I reached out expecting a wait — instead, I got in the very next day. Now I go three times a week, and my body feels significantly better. My chest feels more open; I literally feel like I can breathe easier. 🌟
Boudoir Photoshoot: A long-time dream I finally said yes to. I found the perfect photographer, booked the shoot, and every step of the process has felt like my gut saying, “Yes. This is for you.” 💃
Therapy: I decided to find support now, while I’m doing better, so I’m prepared for the harder moments ahead. I did my research, found someone who checked all the boxes, reached out, and she was able to speak to me that very day. 🧠💜
Every time I show up for myself, the universe meets me halfway.
🌞 My Daily Reminder
Each morning, after my Morning Pages, I write this affirmation:
“If I keep showing up, life will reward me.” 💫
And it’s proving true, over and over again.
I’m learning that showing up for yourself — even when it’s hard, even when it’s quiet — is the most powerful spell you can cast.
Life really does reward those who keep choosing to heal. 🌿
🌷 If these words brought you comfort, consider sharing them with a friend who might need them too. Subscribe below to stay connected — we’re healing, growing, and showing up together. 💫
Yesterday I had my Week 4 Artist Date, and it was truly lovely. For this week, I decided to take my inner artist on a little date to Trinity Park here in Fort Worth — and take a walk. I didn’t listen to anything while I walked; I just moved and soaked in the natural beauty of the park. Just me and my thoughts. 🦆🌳
🌿 A Visit with the Ducks
When I arrived, I parked by the duck pond, so before I got started, I spent some time by the water just watching the ducks and geese. That felt pretty special in itself.
When I was little, one of my favorite activities with my great-grandmother was feeding the ducks and geese at the pond near her house. We’d stop at the store for day-old bread and then spend the afternoon by the water. (Side note: now I know better — bread isn’t great for them 😅 — but I didn’t back then.)
It was such a sweet reminder of childhood to sit by the pond and hear the quacks and splashes and see families making those same memories. I actually got a little teary 🥲 — I felt my great-grandmother with me, proud of the woman I’m becoming, cheering me on.
One goose even came right up to me and started pecking at my bracelets — like it was trying to say hello. I’m pretty sure that was Meme’s spirit dropping by. Even if it wasn’t, I’m choosing to believe it 🕊️.
🚶♀️ The Walk Itself
After sitting by the pond, I set off down the trail — a little over a mile each way. I wasn’t rushing or trying to turn it into a workout (though I did start my Apple Watch activity 😉). I just walked at whatever pace felt natural in the moment, breathing deeply and letting my thoughts flow.
Texas still hasn’t gotten the memo that it’s November — it was sunny and 77°F ☀️ — but I wasn’t complaining. The weather was perfect. I went around lunch time, so the park was quiet and peaceful. For a while, I forgot I was in the middle of a big city. It was just me, the trees, the birds, and the path ahead.
I made it my little mission to smile and say hi to every person I passed — no small talk required, just simple connection. Some avoided eye contact, some smiled back enthusiastically, and one gentleman I passed twice even laughed when I said, “Hello again!” Kindness really is contagious. 💫
💤 Sleep Setbacks and Self-Compassion
The last couple of nights have been rougher for sleep — last night I woke up at 4:45 a.m. and was a bit sweaty again. Not terrible, but noticeable. While it’s disappointing that this issue still lingers, I’m choosing not to get discouraged. Healing isn’t linear. My hormones are shifting as I near my period, and I know that’s likely part of it. 🌙
So instead of spiraling, I’m focusing on being gentle with myself. When I wake up, I remind myself: I am safe. I am loved. I am okay. I’ll keep drinking my teas, journaling before bed, and showing up for myself — because I know I’m worth it. 🫖🕯️
🌸 Doing the Unglamorous Work
It’s not glamorous work — but it’s work I’m proud to be doing. For so long I avoided it — the feelings, the root causes, the habits. Now I’m doing the hard stuff even when I’m tired, cranky, or hormonal. I still write my morning pages. I still make my breakfast shake and take my supplements. I still move my body through walks, yoga, and Pilates. I still take myself on Artist Dates — even when I try to talk myself out of them until the last minute. 😉
And because I’m sticking with it, my life is changing for the better — step by step, page by page, day by day. 💪✨
🪷 A New Therapy Chapter
Today I took another big step: I started looking for a new therapist. I searched on Psychology Today for specialists in somatic therapy — the kind that integrates body and mind healing instead of relying solely on talk therapy. After reading several profiles, I found someone who feels like a perfect fit and sent her a message requesting a consultation. 🌿
I’ve done talk therapy before, and while venting always felt good, it never gave me the deep healing I was craving. I’m realizing that I need a more holistic approach — one that includes my mind, body, and spirit. So today, I stopped procrastinating and got started — and that alone feels like progress I can be proud of. 🩷
💫 Closing Thoughts
It’s days like this that remind me how much has shifted. I’m walking through healing — literally and metaphorically — and every step, every tear, every moment of presence matters. Here’s to listening to our bodies, honoring our inner artists, and continuing to show up for ourselves one gentle day at a time. 🌼
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Hey, hi, hello! Happy Monday! ✨ I hope everyone’s week is off to a great start so far.
Today has felt like one of those simple but meaningful days — the kind where you show up for yourself in the little ways, and it quietly adds up to something big.
🌅 Morning Momentum
I got up when my alarm went off (no procrastinating, for once 😅). I did my morning pages and affirmations, made my breakfast protein shake, took my supplements, and then headed to the chiropractor. Heath works from home on Mondays, so I was lucky enough to have him join me — we BOTH got adjusted this morning! Such a great way to start the week refreshed and in alignment (literally and energetically).
When we got home, he started his workday and I put on my headphones, cued up an episode of The Mel Robbins Podcast, and started working on the house. 🧺 I did the dishes, worked on laundry, tidied the living room, made the bed — just focused on making the space feel good.
🚶♀️ Walking Through Resistance
Once I ran out of chores (waiting on laundry cycles), I hopped on the walk pad. Instead of my usual silent walk, I kept listening to Mel Robbins — a little mental bribe to get moving, and it worked.
But then the thoughts started: “I can just do 20 minutes today. That’s better than nothing.” True — but I’ve set a 45-minute goal, and every time I reach it, I feel proud. I realized I was rushing for no real reason — just because part of me didn’t want to be uncomfortable. So I asked myself, “Okay, fine. If I get off now, what would I do instead?”
Every time, I came up blank. There wasn’t anything else I actually wanted to be doing. I was just getting sweaty and my instinct was to stop. Once I noticed that, I decided to push through. I slowed my pace to about 2.6, but I kept going until the timer hit 45 minutes. ✅ When I finished, I felt accomplished — sweaty, yes, but genuinely proud for honoring that commitment.
💪 Rewriting My Story with Movement
I know walking is good for me — physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m still unlearning 35 years of believing exercise “isn’t for me,” so this chapter is about rewriting that story. Every time I do the thing I don’t want to do but know I need to, it gets a little easier. I’m building evidence that I can be consistent.
📚 The Rest of the Day
After my walk, I made lunch and enjoyed it slowly. I kept up with the laundry, tidied a few more things, and then sat down to read. I’m working through The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk — fascinating and dense. Today I made it through a few chapters in one sitting, and it felt good to be learning and focusing again.
🌙 Consistency & Calm
Over the last week I’ve stuck to my bedtime and morning routines and been intentional about nutrition — and I can finally feel the payoff. My energy is more stable, my focus is sharper, and even though sleep isn’t perfect yet, I can tell I’m moving in the right direction. It’s slow progress, but it’s progress.
My goal right now is simple: stay consistent — with food, routines, movement, and mindset. If I build small, trustworthy habits my body and mind can rely on, that foundation will carry me forward.
💜 The Beauty in Ordinary Days
Today wasn’t extraordinary. Nothing flashy happened. But it was full of small, intentional choices — and that’s what real transformation looks like. This is the work. It isn’t always exciting or glamorous. It’s regulating my nervous system, showing up for myself, and learning to trust myself — even on quiet days when no one’s watching.
All those little things I did today are helping me heal — one literal step at a time.
Thanks for being here while I practice consistency, celebrate tiny wins, and keep choosing the long game.
Love always, Bailz 💜
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