Therapy didn’t make me a serene, emotionally stable adult. It gave me feelings. All of them. At once. Usually in public. Turns out, awareness isn’t peace—it’s the part before peace, and it’s deeply inconvenient.

I used to think saying “no” required a detailed explanation. Now I know better: people who respect your boundaries don’t need a backstory. “No” is a full sentence—and it doesn’t need a footnote.

I used to think staying calm meant I was in control. But what I was really doing was dissociating. Emotional regulation isn’t silence—it’s learning how to feel safely, stay present, and respond with intention.

I used to think I had an anger problem. Turns out, I just needed a sandwich. Emotional regulation isn’t always deep inner work—sometimes it’s remembering to eat, rest, and stop white-knuckling your way through the day.

Shame doesn’t yell—it whispers. It rewrites how you see yourself and convinces you that struggling means you’re defective. But shame isn’t a flaw. It’s a defense. And healing starts by choosing something kinder in response.

Therapy didn’t just help me grow—it made some of my favorite coping strategies unusable. Detached humor, emotional shutdown, overworking? They don’t work like they used to. And weirdly, that’s how I knew the work was working.

A short text message is all it takes to send an overthinker into full psychological meltdown. But maybe—just maybe—it really was just a text

You start with a to-do list and end up researching sea otters. Welcome to the ADHD productivity spiral—where guilt, overwhelm, and bursts of

Some days, parenting feels like too much. Not because you don’t love your kids—but because you’ve reached your limit. Being touched out does