Honest storytelling as a form of healing.

Tag: thoughts

  • I Made This for the Version of Me That Was Drowning

    I Made This for the Version of Me That Was Drowning


    There was a season where I kept showing up to my own life like a stranger. Going through every motion. Doing every task. And still feeling like I was disappearing.

    Are ready to reset?

    I want to be honest with you about that season, because I think you might know it too. The alarm goes off before sunrise. You make everybody else’s morning happen.

    You hold the house, hold the family, hold the job, hold your tongue when you’re tired. And somewhere in the middle of all that holding, you forget to hold yourself.

    That’s where this journal came from. Not from a place of having it figured out. From a place of being in it.

    I needed something that would meet me where I actually was. Not where I was supposed to be.

    I’ve been on a path toward becoming a journal therapy practitioner. That work cracked something open in me, because it showed me that writing isn’t just creative expression.

    It’s a way of locating yourself. A way of asking: what do I actually think? What do I actually feel? What do I actually need right now, underneath all this noise?

    And I realized I had never given myself seven consecutive days to just answer those questions.

    seven days

    That’s what 7 Days of Alignment is. It’s a guided digital journal, and each day has a specific focus: how you’re showing up, what you’re carrying, what you’re ready to put down, what you actually want. Real prompts. Not surface-level. Not “write three things you’re grateful for.” The kind of questions that make you sit with the pen for a second before you answer.

    Seven days is not a transformation. I won’t promise you that. But it is a reorientation. And sometimes that’s the only thing standing between you and your own life.

    I priced it at $7. On purpose. Because I know what it’s like to want something for your mental health and not be able to justify the cost. Seven dollars is a coffee. It’s a single song download. It’s the smallest investment you could make in yourself this week. I wanted the price to never be the reason someone didn’t try.

    If you’ve been running on empty and wondering why nothing feels aligned, this is the place to start.

    I’m not going to tell you this will fix everything. Life keeps moving, the lease still needs to be handled, the bills still arrive. But when you know where you stand inside yourself, you navigate all of it differently. You stop reacting from exhaustion and start responding from something steadier.

    That’s what seven days gave me. I want that for you too.

    7 Days of Alignment
    is waiting for you.

    7 Days of Alignment is here. $7. PURCHASE HERE

    If you’ve read this far, you already know it’s for you. Start tomorrow morning.

  • A Whole New World

    A Whole New World

    I woke up early and I was excited. Doors opened at 10 but I knew better than to show up at 10. This was a convention people had been talking about for months. So I got there early, and sure enough, when I turned the corner to find the entrance, the line was already wrapped around the block.

    I waited at least 45 minutes before they let us in.
    And when they did, it was a massive amount of people spread across four floors. All I could think was: we are all here for the same reason. We love books. That was it. That was the thread connecting every single person in that building.
    Later I found out that while I was inside in awe, absorbing everything, studying the room, people were online complaining that it was too crowded. And I understand that. But that’s not what this is about.
    This is about what it felt like to be in the room.
    I didn’t go as a fan this year. I went as a writer doing her homework.

    I walked those floors with my eyes wide open, asking myself: what does this feel like from the other side of the table?

    Because that’s where I’m headed. I told myself right there, out loud: next year, I’m coming back as an author.


    I met some incredible people. I picked up books that called to me. I picked up a little Edgar Allan Poe magnet and now he lives on my writing wall, staring at me every time I sit down to write.

    Only a matter of time

    I sat on a Naturepedic mattress at a booth, held up a book, and let someone take my picture like it was the most natural thing in the world, because it was.

    I stood in front of a backdrop that said I See Books In My Future and I believed it.


    Con mucho amor. That’s what one of the authors wrote in my book. With much love. That’s the energy of BookCon, underneath all the crowds and the chaos. People who made things, sharing them with people who needed them.
    I needed this day more than I knew.
    The floor was packed. My feet hurt. I was tired before I even got there. And still, I left full.
    That’s the writer’s life, isn’t it? You show up tired. You find something that feeds you anyway. You go home and you write about it.
    See you next year. On the other side of the table.

    Manifesting where I will be coming next year w my book
  • Why Share Anyway

    Why Share Anyway

    I want to talk about something that I think a lot of creators sit with but don’t always say out loud.
    Sometimes you put something into the world not because you know it’s going to land, but because you believe it’s important. Because something in you said this needs to exist. And that reason that one is enough.
    I didn’t create what I created because I was chasing numbers. I created it because I thought it could help someone.

    Because it meant something to me. And that meaning doesn’t disappear just because the response was quiet.
    We live in a world that measures worth in metrics. Likes, views, shares. And it’s easy to let that math talk you out of your own conviction.

    But I keep coming back to this: if you share something true, something you genuinely believe in, you’ve already done the thing. The reach is secondary. The intention is the foundation.
    Not everyone will want what you have. That’s not failure. That’s just how it works. Your people are specific. Your message is specific. And specificity takes time to find its audience.
    So keep sharing what matters to you.

    Not for the validation. Because it’s important. Because you think it’s important. And that’s the only reason you ever needed.

  • Just another day or was it

    Just another day or was it

    Opened on time.

    Lights on.

    Music playing.

    Everything with its usual humming.

    Members walked in like any other day.

    What they didn’t see?

    I couldn’t find my keys.

    The chunky keychain with all the charms.

    The one that’s impossible to miss until it’s missing.

    I called coworkers.

    No answer.

    I swallowed my pride and called to make .

    Drove to get a backup key.

    Watched the clock like it was a countdown to disaster.

    Adrenaline before sunrise.

    And still the doors opened.

    No one knew the scramble.

    No one felt the panic.

    No one noticed the recalculating, the rerouting, the quiet “figure it out.”

    They just saw access.

    And that’s the part that stayed with me.

    How much of life is held together by people who are internally sprinting while externally steady?

    Last night my coat snagged and fell apart.

    This morning my keys disappeared.

    For a moment, it felt like everything was unraveling.

    But nothing unraveled.

    The doors opened.

    Sometimes resilience doesn’t look glamorous.

    Sometimes it looks like solving a problem before anyone knows there was one.

    Sometimes strength is quiet.

  • Thank you Benito

    Thank you Benito

    I want to take a moment to say thank you to Bad Bunny to Benito, really.

    The Super Bowl halftime show was layered. It wasn’t loud just to be loud. It wasn’t spectacle for the sake of spectacle. It was intentional. Cultural. Personal. And full of messages that landed differently depending on who you are and where you’re standing in your life.

    There were messages for the youth. Messages for people who come from somewhere and had to fight to be seen. Messages about pride, language, roots, and refusing to dilute yourself to be accepted. All of that mattered. Deeply.

    But one moment stayed with me more than anything else.

    When he said, believe in yourself.

    And then without overexplaining, without drama he handed the Grammy to his younger self.

    That moment stopped me.

    Because that wasn’t performance. That was acknowledgment. That was healing. That was a grown man looking back at the version of himself who probably doubted, struggled, felt unseen, and saying: We did it. I didn’t abandon you.

    Make your inner child proud

    There was something so powerful about watching someone honor not just their success, but the work it took to get there. The quiet nights. The moments of being misunderstood. The choice to keep going without losing who you are.

    And the pride in his heritage unapologetic, woven into the fabric of the performance, not explained or translated was beautiful. Not because it needed validation, but because it never asked for it.

    Ironically, or maybe not ironically at all, that message felt like it was meant for me.

    Where I am right now in my life, I’m doing a lot of looking back. A lot of reconciling with earlier versions of myself. A lot of asking whether I believed enough, trusted enough, stayed true enough. Seeing that exchange between present self and younger self felt like permission to be proud of how far I’ve come, even if I’m not “done” yet.

    So thank you, Benito.

    For reminding people especially the ones still becoming that believing in yourself isn’t arrogance. It’s survival. It’s continuity. It’s how you make it back to yourself without losing the thread.

    And sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is turn around, look your younger self in the eyes, and say: I carried you with me the whole time.

  • Five Free Apps That Turn the City Into a Living Archive

    Five Free Apps That Turn the City Into a Living Archive

    I move through cities the same way I move through memory slowly, observantly, noticing what most people rush past. I don’t just want to go places. I want to understand where I am, and I want to leave a trace for myself.

    Which of these will you use first?

    These free apps have quietly become part of how I explore, wander, and document. Think of them as modern tools for curiosity little digital companions that help turn a walk into a story and a moment into a keepsake.

    Atlas Obscura

    This app is for the curious soul who knows the best places are rarely the loudest ones.

    Atlas Obscura maps the strange, hidden, and often overlooked corners of cities forgotten monuments, unusual museums, secret staircases, quiet landmarks with history baked into their walls. It’s perfect for wandering without a rigid plan. You open it, see what’s nearby, and suddenly the city feels layered instead of flat.

    It’s not about checking things off a list. It’s about discovering what was already there, waiting.

    PocketBooth

    PocketBooth is documentation in its purest form.

    It mimics old-school photo booth strips four frames, one moment, no overthinking. There’s something intimate about it. No filters competing for attention. No pressure to perform. Just presence.

    A photo booth has always been a form of proof: I was here. PocketBooth lets you do that anywhere alone, with friends, mid-walk, mid-life.

    Tape

    Tape feels like movement captured honestly.

    It allows you to document moments in a raw, almost analog way short clips that feel more like fragments than finished products. I use it when I don’t want polish. When I want truth. When the moment matters more than how it looks.

    Some memories aren’t meant to be curated. They’re meant to be kept.

    1SE

    1SE captures just one second a day. I use it as a quiet form of documentation by the end of the month, I can see my days unfold, second by second. It’s a reminder that even the smallest moments count.

    Bloomberg Connects

    This one is for intentional wandering.

    Bloomberg Connects gives access to museums, cultural spaces, galleries, and landmarks, while clearly breaking down what’s free and what’s not. It removes the guesswork and the intimidation that sometimes comes with cultural spaces.

    I love that it makes exploration feel accessible no gatekeeping, no pressure, just information so you can choose how you want to engage.

    Why I Keep These on My Phone

    Together, these apps do two things: they help me discover, and they help me remember.

    Exploration without documentation disappears.

    Documentation without meaning feels empty.

    These tools let me move through cities and through life with intention. Paying attention. Leaving small records behind. Honoring moments without trying to control them.

    A city is a living archive.

    So are we.

  • 14 Reasons Valentine’s Day Is Overhyped (and I’m Not Sorry)

    14 Reasons Valentine’s Day Is Overhyped (and I’m Not Sorry)

    What do you think about this day?

    1. It’s been aggressively commercialized.

    Love didn’t ask to be packaged in red cellophane and sold at a markup.

    2. It’s literally rooted in martyrdom.

    Nothing says romance like a day born from execution and religious confusion.

    3. Love should be practiced daily, not scheduled annually.

    If affection needs a calendar reminder, that’s not romance that’s maintenance.

    4. Flowers and candy prices are straight-up offensive.

    The same bouquet last week was half the price. Miss me with that capitalism.

    5. You can’t get reservations anywhere you actually want to eat.

    And even if you could, the prix-fixe menu is a scam in disguise.

    6. It creates pressure instead of intimacy.

    One person feels judged for “not doing enough,” the other feels undervalued if nothing shows up.

    7. It turns love into a performance.

    Public posts, forced smiles, curated moments who is this really for?

    8. It reinforces outdated relationship roles.

    Men are expected to prove, women are expected to receive. We’re tired.

    9. It ignores every kind of love that isn’t romantic.

    Friendships, self-love, chosen family, healing none of that gets a card aisle.

    10. It magnifies loneliness for people already struggling.

    A whole day dedicated to reminding people what they don’t have is cruel, actually.

    11. It rewards bare minimum behavior.

    One grand gesture doesn’t erase a year of emotional absence.

    12. It confuses spending money with showing care.

    Real love is consistency, not receipts.

    13. It encourages comparison instead of connection.

    Someone else’s roses don’t mean your relationship is lacking social media just lies loudly.

    14. If love is real, it doesn’t need a holiday to survive.

    And if it only shows up on February 14th… that’s your answer.

  • 100 Days what’s in a Doodle

    100 Days what’s in a Doodle

    For my 100 days, I will be allowing the pen to flow via doodles.

    What that means is allowing my pen to meet paper and create a kind of dance.

    There’s no need for it to be perfect.

    No obligation to share every day.

    What will fill your 100 days?

    Just five or ten minutes of being

    Truthfully, I am not an artist when it comes to drawing.

    connecting pen to paper without words, letting the movement lead.

    I’ve seen many people share that they’ll be using oil paints, watercolors, and remarkable artistic talents. I admire that deeply, but that isn’t me.

    I almost stepped back because of that.

    I am poetic. Writing is my language. When it comes to visual art, I’ve always been the admirer.

    But when I reflected on what this project actually represents, I realized something important:

    art was never about the outcome.

    It was about giving myself a space to create.

    That is why I became a writer.

    And now, with this 100 Day Project approaching, I’m choosing to give myself that same freedom again.

    to create without pressure, without performance, without expectation.

    Just pen.

    Paper.

    And permission.

    Remember join along and find out all the details HERE

  • Will you join the 100 Day Project?

    Will you join the 100 Day Project?

    The 100 Day Project is a global, free creative project that anyone can join.

    ( find out more info HERE)

    The idea is simple:

    choose one creative practice and return to it every day for 100 days.

    There are no requirements around skill level, materials, or outcomes.

    Your practice can be anything writing, drawing, movement, photography, noticing, or something entirely your own.

    How it works:

    Choose one thing. Something small enough to repeat daily and flexible enough to grow with you. Commit to a short daily practice. Five minutes is enough. More is welcome, but not required.

    Show up for 100 days. Not to perfect your craft, but to build a relationship with it. Share if you want. Sharing is optional.

    Many people document their process publicly, others keep it entirely private.

    The project isn’t about productivity or performance.

    It’s about consistency, curiosity, and allowing creativity to exist without pressure.

    The next cycle of the 100 Day Project begins on February 22 (2/22).

    Will you join in?

    The days leading up to it are a preparation period a chance to reflect, explore ideas, and decide what kind of creative practice you want to commit to.

    Tomorrow, I’ll share what my own 100 days will look like.

  • Facing the Week’s Battle

    Facing the Week’s Battle

    This week had a way of testing me.

    It started on Monday,

    when I knocked down my own tower and finally let myself see what it is I want to work toward. Tuesday came and the feelings didn’t leave. They lingered, pressed in, asking to be acknowledged.

    So I began to encapsulate them, to plan because planning is part of what I’m building now.

    By Wednesday, Thursday, and now Friday,

    the lesson became clear: support matters.

    Not a crowd. Not a circle for show. But someone who listens really listens who acknowledges the trials, who tries to understand.

    I may not have what people call a group of friends, but having support that hears me

    has made all the difference. In this journey of entering my sovereignty, I know I have to stay true to myself.

    I know I have to keep going. This is a hard hill to climb.

    But knowing I have the ability to succeed and the drive, and the support is what’s keeping me moving forward, even now.