The True Story of My Childhood Anxiety + The Missing Key on Your Path to Healing

Hello my dear readers.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here.

I can’t believe I am almost officially a year and a half into blogging! Looking back, the blog has had endless iterations of designs, logos, colors, themes, and even web platforms. The content has shape shifted and taken on numerous forms, from personal narratives to recipes, quick tips, and full blown soul-unleashings.

I used to feel some shame and inadequacy surrounding the many different faces of my content, but now I choose to interpret it as a visual reflection of the evolutions we’re all constantly undergoing. There’s no endpoint to our creativity or the discovery of our truth. There’s no finish line. We move the needle closer to our authenticity a little bit at a time, and as we go, our external worlds reveal and manifest that.

Today’s post is all about healing.

It's a reminder that we are our very own healers. It’s a loving nudge to stop searching desperately for someone to fix you and start looking at what’s been there all along: Your self. Your wise heart. Your resilient body. Your powerful mind. Your incandescent soul.