Staying With What's Here

Breaking patterns of self-abandonment and finding wisdom in surrender.

Fulfilling expectations is something I’ve always taken very seriously. To a point that it’s been a path of self-abandonment. Like chasing a mirage—the illusion that if I meet the demands, I’ll finally earn love and belonging. That I’ll finally be secure.

Do I need to keep proving my worth for us to stay connected?
If I don’t write for a couple weeks, will you unsubscribe? Forget about me forever?

This touches on an old limiting belief: I don’t really exist unless I’m offering value.
But here’s the truth:
You cannot actually secure love and belonging through working harder.
Belonging is an inner felt sense that emerges through present moment awareness. You find it by staying present with yourself, even when it’s uncomfortable—or painful.
Dissociating into the next project (mirage) is only habituation—a way to avoid feeling the deeper longing that stirs under the surface.

Maybe you know this feeling too. The way busyness becomes a refuge. How easy it is to fill every quiet moment with productivity, with improvement, with doing—anything to avoid the real ache.

What are you running from when you can’t sit still? What feelings are waiting in the spaces between your tasks?

Because here’s what I’m finding: the things we most need to process are often the ones we’re most skilled at avoiding.
We’ve built entire lives around not feeling certain things. And the cost of that avoidance is steep—we lose contact with ourselves and with each other.

Our struggles could be bridges.
The very thing you’re afraid to feel, afraid to name, might be exactly what creates real connection. But only if you’re willing to stay with it long enough to let it speak.

I’m here to express what rises from my body, not what I think will keep you subscribed.
I want to serve from truth rather than from fear that you’ll drift away.

There is a lot stirring for me at the moment.
I want to tell you about how my relationship with my brother is the root of everything I share; why this work is so meaningful to me; how much I truly care about our collective healing.
But that story feels huge—bigger than what I have words for at the moment.

So I’m giving myself some time away in upcoming weeks—practicing what I preach.
I want to write when something is ready to be written, not because I’m supposed to.
(Also, I’m an autistic mom—December is a big month!)

To my paid subscribers: you should check the chat today (I’m revealing something cheeky!)

Grateful for all of you here!