Letting go of the fantasy of romance helped me love myself more deeply. I stopped performing. I stopped chasing perfection. And I found real peace.

It feels like we’re entering a collective healing season. People are burnt out, tuning in, redefining joy, and learning to be alone again—and it’s beautiful.

I’ve spent years surviving. Now, I’m curating joy—slowly learning what makes me feel whole, peaceful, and me. And I’m asking—what have you learned about you?

Here’s what they don’t tell you about healing—things get quiet. And while peace is beautiful, sometimes the silence feels a little like loneliness.

It’s hard to grieve someone who’s still alive, but last night, while listening to jazz, I felt the weight of what could’ve been. I thought about my father.

Our bodies are our spiritual representatives. They hold our stories, our pain, and our strength. How are you showing up for yours?

Fear is the antithesis of peace. You literally cannot be at peace if you’re afraid. So I cut off the outlet feeding me fear—and I feel so much lighter.

Slowing down is a sign of healing. It’s a sign that we recognize the value of every moment—enough to pause, breathe, and just be. Yesterday, I did exactly that in the park, and it reminded me how powerful simple pleasures can be.

Silencing that inner critic is healing.

What brings you joy? Like... pure joy.

What does being healed look like for you?

Journaling is healing.