Bailz Has a Blog

Tag: spiritual growth

  • Returning to Myself, One Pause at a Time

    Returning to Myself, One Pause at a Time

    ✨ Hey, hi, hello! Happy Wednesday!

    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. 🌿

    ✨ Want to Follow Along?

    If you enjoyed this post and want to follow along on my healing journey, my messy middle, and all the magic I’m discovering along the way, please consider subscribing.

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    Love always,
    Bailz 💜

  • Releasing Rigidity, Embracing Flow 💫

    Releasing Rigidity, Embracing Flow 💫

    Hey, hi, hello! Happy Saturday!

    Recently, I’ve been feeling a little stagnant. A little off, a little out of sorts, a little distracted. Instead of feeling grateful for this journey I’m on and the incredible opportunity that it is, I found myself feeling obligated — even overwhelmed — by all the “work” I still needed to do. It started to feel like every spare moment had to be dedicated to healing, studying, improving. And slowly but surely, I drained myself of the excitement and joy that originally fueled all of this.

    Realizing I’d Turned Healing Into Homework 📚

    Through some honest self-reflection, I realized I’ve been focusing too much on the fine print — the self-help texts, the podcasts, the expert advice — and not nearly enough time actually exploring what feels good for me.

    Once again, balance has revealed itself as my biggest struggle. Despite my intentions, I became rigid, strict, and overly disciplined in ways that led me right back to the burnout I was trying so hard to heal from.

    When I started this blog, I proudly proclaimed that every new thing I consumed would relate to my happiness project. Only self-improvement books. Only mindset podcasts. Only healing-focused content. For a while, that was motivating… but eventually, it became suffocating.

    Instead of embracing what I’d learned and focusing on integrating it, I convinced myself I needed to keep reading, keep studying, keep digging deeper. I sent myself straight into information overload — to the point where everything blurred together. I couldn’t even tell you which ideas came from which book anymore; it was all just a big, overwhelming soup of “shoulds.”

    And little by little, it all started feeling like I was completing tasks just to check them off a list, not because they were supporting my happiness. I was either “studying” or watching familiar shows while scrolling my phone — old patterns, old distractions, old autopilot. I stopped being fully present, and my body let me know. (Hi, neck tension!)

    Where’s the Fun in All of This? 🎢

    I’ve bought several new books recently — Beatles biographies, historical fiction, romantasy — all things that bring me joy. Yet I told myself I couldn’t read them because they weren’t part of “the project.” I refused myself joy if it wasn’t officially productive.

    I lost sight of what the bigger journey was actually supposed to be: not fixing myself… but finding myself.

    And the question finally hit me:

    If I’m not finding joy in my days, what the hell am I even doing?

    So yesterday, I recalibrated. Hard.

    I finished a novel I’ve been slowly reading for months — A Resistance of Witches, which was SO up my alley. And wow… I realized how much guilt I’d buried around simply enjoying myself. I thought I was being disciplined. Really, I was depriving myself.

    After my walk-pad session, I took a nap — a full, luxurious 2-hour nap — without setting a 45-minute “approved” timer. When I woke up, I finally cracked open SHOUT!, the Beatles biography that has been calling to me from the shelf for weeks. And reading it felt like a deep, contented exhale.

    There is a time and place for rigidity and structure, but it does not need to be constant. So now I’m focusing on balance — real balance — not rules disguised as self-care.

    Letting Myself Rest (For Real) 😴

    This morning, I let myself sleep in because I’ve been fighting off a cold. When I finally got up, I felt more rested than I have in days.

    I stepped outside for my morning sun exposure, made my breakfast shake, took my supplements, and did my morning pages and affirmations. The basics still matter to me — they keep me grounded — but I’m softening the edges around them.

    Dusting Off the Piano Keys 🎹

    After my morning routine, I wandered into the guest room/my office and decided… it’s time to play piano again.

    Back in May, one of my closest friends gifted me her old keyboard because I’d talked about wanting to learn. I practiced daily for a couple weeks, posted some videos, felt proud… and then life happened. I fell out of the habit.

    Every time I saw the keyboard afterward, the shame hit hard. Instead of recognizing that ache as longing, I told myself I “should be working on other things,” so I’d close the door and pretend it didn’t hurt my heart to leave it sitting there.

    But after my realization about joy and rigidity, I decided that playing music gets to be part of my daily routine, just like walking and yoga.

    So today, I dusted off the keys and practiced for about 30 minutes with a beginner YouTube video. I was rusty, but I was smiling. Really smiling.

    This is the kind of thing I want to chase — joy, fun, creativity, magic. The self-improvement literature helped me build a foundation. But now I need to live on that foundation, not bury myself under more textbooks about how to live.

    Getting Honest About Alcohol 🍷🚫

    Another big realization: as much as I may wish it were different, alcohol just cannot be part of my life right now.

    I’ve done great avoiding it during the week, but Friday rolls around and suddenly I’m counting down to 5 p.m. Sometimes I manage to stick to one drink, sometimes I don’t. Either way, I always feel worse afterward — in my sleep, my mood, my body.

    The short-term buzz just isn’t worth the long-term crash. So for now, alcohol is off the table. It’s scary to say that out loud, but it also feels like relief. Like I’m finally choosing myself — not just in theory, but in practice.

    Softening the Edges of My Routines 🌿

    Going forward, I’m keeping the core of my routines — sleep, nutrition, walking, yoga, Pilates — but loosening the rigidity that was making everything feel like homework.

    The time in between? That belongs to joy now.

    • Playing piano.
    • Reading about Beatles lore and faeries getting freaky.
    • Drawing and painting.
    • Snuggling dogs, drinking tea, and letting myself just be.

    I am aiming to be more fluid and less rigid — and I know I’ll stumble, but I’ll adjust and keep learning what serves me and what doesn’t.

    Today, I Choose Joy ✨

    Today, I feel hopeful. Grounded. Light. I’m going to get on the walk pad, make some tea, snuggle up with the dogs, read about The Beatles, do some yoga, make myself something nourishing… and actually enjoy it.

    Not because it’s “part of the protocol.” Not because a book told me to. But because it feels good. And isn’t that the whole point?

    Let’s Chat 💬

    I’d love to hear from you in the comments:

    • Where in your life have you gotten a little too rigid with your “self-improvement” habits?
    • What’s one joyful, “just for fun” thing you’ve been denying yourself that you’d like to bring back?
    • How do you personally find balance between growth and rest?

    Stay Connected 💌

    If you’re walking your own winding healing path and want some company along the way, I’d love for you to stick around.

    Subscribe to the blog to get updates when new posts go live — cozy reflections on healing, nervous-system regulation, self-trust, creativity, and all the messy in-between. No spam, just little love notes and honest check-ins from my corner of the world.

    Thank you for being here. It means more than you know.

    Love always, Bailz 💜

  • 🎨 Artist Date Week 4 — A Literal Walk in the Park

    🎨 Artist Date Week 4 — A Literal Walk in the Park

    Hey, hi, hello! 👋 Happy Thursday!

    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. 🌼

    ☀️ Thank you for walking beside me — both literally and metaphorically. 💜
    Subscribe below to keep joining me for more Artist Dates, healing rituals, and quiet moments of self-discovery. 🌿

    Love always,
    💜 Bailz

  • 🎨 My Week Two Artist Date: A Conversation with Beauty

    🎨 My Week Two Artist Date: A Conversation with Beauty

    Hey, hi, hello! Happy Wednesday, everyone! 👋

    As I mentioned in my last post, I’ve been working through The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. In addition to daily morning pages, she also recommends a weekly Artist Date — and I just got back home from mine for this week, so I wanted to share a little bit about it.

    🌿 What Is an Artist Date?

    Great question! Cameron describes it as:

    “A block of time, perhaps two hours weekly, especially set aside and committed to nurturing your creative consciousness — your inner artist.”

    She also notes that:

    “You do not take anyone on this artist date but you and your inner artist, a.k.a. your creative child.”

    So essentially, it’s a weekly solo adventure meant to refill your creative well — no productivity required, no audience to impress.

    💅 Week One: Playing It Safe

    For my first Artist Date, I played it pretty safe and took myself to get my nails done. I incorporated the “artist” part by intuitively choosing a different color than usual — red this time instead of my signature black. Small shift, big statement.

    🖼️ Week Two: The Kimbell Art Museum

    For week two, I wanted to stretch myself a bit and really lean into the artist concept.

    After my chiropractor appointment this morning, I decided that today would be my Artist Date day. I took myself to the Kimbell Art Museum here in Fort Worth. I’ve been before, but never by myself — so this experience was new and exciting, but also a little intimidating.

    I’m not really a “go-do-stuff-by-myself” kind of gal, but I’m working on that. And today was a great exercise in doing something just for me.

    ✨ Letting Art Be Enough

    I wandered for about an hour and a half, just soaking in the beauty of the paintings and sculptures on display.

    Within the first few minutes, I knew I was going to want to write about my experience here on the blog. I was so tempted to shape my visit around that — taking photos, making notes, writing the post in my head as I went. But I stopped myself.

    The whole point was to take my inner artist out — just me and her, looking at some art together. Not to turn the experience into a performance.

    So, I decided to simply be there. To let beauty do what beauty does best — speak without words.

    I only took one photo: Caravaggio’s Judith Beheading Holofernes (on loan from Rome). It was… pretty rad.

    🧘‍♀️ Coming Home to Myself

    Now that I’m back home, I plan to do some yoga and get my steps in on the walk pad. As much as I’m feeling the pull toward a nap, I’m trying to hold off and stay consistent with the rhythm I’m building.

    Last night, I started a new bedtime routine to help me reset my sleep cycle. (Shoutout to ChatGPT for helping me design it — it’s a whole two-hour wind-down process that gets me in bed, lights out, by 10 p.m.)

    Even though it still took me a little while to drift off, I didn’t reach for my phone or my book after ten. I kept my eye mask on and focused on my breathing.

    Any time my thoughts wandered, instead of beating myself up, I gently thought:

    “That’s nice. I’m going to focus back on my breathing now.”

    It felt strange at first — but so good to be nice to myself.

    💭 Learning to Be Kind Inside My Own Head

    Now that I’m really paying attention to how I talk to myself, I’m realizing how incredibly negative I’ve been for so long — maybe my whole life. I used to justify it as self-improvement, but honestly, it only made things harder.

    So, I’m trying something new: gentle self-compassion. And it seems to be working.

    My night sweats are still lingering, but they’re so much better than before. I didn’t have to get up or change clothes last night — which feels like a win! I’m hoping that as I keep focusing on healing my body and my mind (through chiropractic care, yoga, walking, better nutrition, and real rest), the physical symptoms will fade, and I can turn my full energy toward the deeper work — inner child healing, and learning to move through the world with less fear and more faith.

    Because honestly? Everything feels more manageable when I’m sleeping well.

    🌙 Closing Thoughts

    So, fingers crossed that things will only improve from here — but even if progress is slow, I’m learning to celebrate the small shifts.

    Today reminded me that healing doesn’t have to be loud. Sometimes it’s just you, quietly standing in front of a painting, remembering that beauty exists — and that you belong to it.

    Here’s to more Artist Dates, more gentle self-talk, and more days that feel like a deep breath. 🌸

    Thank you for being here with me on this journey! I am so grateful for you all!

    Love always, Bailz 💜

    ✨ Stay Connected ✨

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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. 💜

    Never miss a post — subscribe below to have new reflections sent straight to your inbox. 💌

  • ✨ 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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