my blog
a safe place for my creative self-expression.
can I let my quiet be witnessed?
Just like a purple flower sways in the wind as you walk past it on a hiking trail admiring its beauty?
psychological rest
It’s all just what we’re hyper-focused on. Everyone struggles the same amount, in different ways.
To everyone who’s ever thought I had too much to communicate
I have learned that I will never expect anyone to meet me, and I wish you all well on your journeys, wherever you go. I came here to meet all of you for a reason, yet it doesn’t always mean I get to keep you.
Lessons From a Hornet at Midnight
But hornets are a different story. It’s been half an hour, now, watching this hornet fly around my room, my heart jolting and racing each time it gets up to fly around. I move each time, working to stay far away from it. It was in these moments of shocks of fear as it flew that I had the realization of what the hornet was representing in my life.
Signs of emotional manipulation in a relationship
If you are experiencing any of these, or experienced these things growing up with close family members, you’re not alone. In my opinion, emotional violence is the hardest to reconcile, because it gets integrated into who you identify yourself to be mentally, and once belief systems are apart of your identity, they are harder to release.
an ode to my pillars
Each of you supporting growth in a different part of me, together, a beautiful mycelial network of souls carrying me home.
embodiment of energy
I don’t sleep as much these days. Which is great. I’m awake. It means I’ve finally got something to say.
Lessons from my 20’s.
Today I’m 30, I have more wrinkles and chins, and this is what I would say to my 20-year old self.
To the girl I loved before
If I could, I would jump in a time machine and go back. I’d tell you that things were so intense between us because you were the one who woke me up to the true nature of my soul. That I was about to embark on a 3-year long journey of soul-discovery all because I encountered your sparkly blue ocean eyes.
What you might not see about suicide: an essay from a highly sensitive survivor
Suicides won’t stop happening solely because you commit to reach out more to your family or friends. They won’t, because they happen when you’re in the middle of cooking dinner, or when you’re sound asleep. They happen when you’re laughing hysterically at a tiktok, or calling to check in with your mom. They happen when everything is seemingly okay. After all, most of the time it is, except for those few minutes in which it is shockingly not.
And this is what I think many people don’t understand about highly sensitives and their mental health, especially lately.
the power of secrets
I’m no longer sick because of my secrets. I’m well due to my awareness. I’m riveting in my rise.
where do you stop, where do I begin?
The stories don’t really matter anymore, but the feelings do. I could tell the stories a thousand different ways, tell them how you told them, tell them how they told them, tell them how I remember them, but we’re still tied in this circle of pain and confusion that I am looking to release somehow, not being able to process it with you, or really anyone. I ask further where you stop and I begin.
a deep loneliness
I call in support. I call in the strength to serve in a way that best serves the energy at this time. I call in opportunities to use my unique gifts and energetic makeup to make a difference in this world alongside people I love deeply.
