I was one class away from finishing my master's degree when I asked my dad for help paying for it. He said no. Looking back, I wonder if that moment became the foundation of my hypervigilance; the belief that if I planned well enough, carried enough, and anticipated every possibility, I would never have to ask for help again.
The Siren was never just a warning story. She has always been a symbol of voice, presence, autonomy, and the parts of ourselves we were taught to soften to remain acceptable. Reclaiming Your Siren Song is my first interactive digital workbook, created for anyone ready to stop shrinking and return to themselves.
Is it magic, or is it neuroscience? From modern spell work and prayer to manifestation and quantum physics, humans have always tried to understand the power of thought. Does what you believe change your reality, or is it just hope?
When I was young, it was easy for me to love. I handed out my heart like there was an infinite supply, like it was a thing that couldn't be dented, or bruised, or tossed aside. There was no math in my affection or comprehension of the harm others could do. At that age, love… Continue reading Here Anyway
My heart has called me home. There was a certain sheepishness as I followed her call; I hadn't realized I'd abandoned her throne, leaving nothing but dust on her seat. Stress and anxiety had lured me away, whispering that my value lay in the lands of others. The relentless machine of obligation overwhelmed me. I… Continue reading My Heart
Insecurities are an interesting thing. We treat them like small, shameful secrets, yet we allow them to dominate large swaths of our lives. For some, that insecurity might be a vice; for others, it’s the shape of their body or the weight of a decade-old mistake. We live in constant fear that we’ll be "branded"… Continue reading And It Worked
I used to fear the word content. I heard it as a heavy, rusted anchor, a settling of the soul into the silt of the mundane. I thought it meant the end of the climb, the extinguishing of the fire, the quiet surrender of a heart that had simply stopped trying to grow. I saw… Continue reading Already Home
Memory is a story we tell ourselves to survive; the body is the truth we cannot edit. When I was young, I was molested by a babysitter’s son. I didn’t remember it for a long time. My young mind did what it needed to do to survive. It folded the memory neatly and tucked it… Continue reading What I Wasn’t Taught Was From Whom
Sacred Rose Dear Blossoming Soul, This month has been a journey. I once thought this would be something I did alone, even while sharing it with others. I was proud of creating the Sacred Rose journal. This is my third year following the phases of the moon and the blooming rose as a way of… Continue reading Day 28: Waxing Gibbous in Leo
Sacred Rose Dear Blossoming Soul, How often do I shrug off a compliment without letting it land?Laugh it away.Deflect it with an awkward chuckle. Let discomfort decide for me. It is hard for me to receive. Compliments.Help.Love.Care. Because if I allow myself to believe they’ll stay, what happens when they don’t? What happens if I… Continue reading Day 27: Waxing Gibbous in Cancer
