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You Don’t Have to Believe Everything You Think
Think of a thought ladder as a gentle series of cognitive stepping stones that guide you from a disempowering narrative to one that supports you more truthfully and compassionately.Thought Ladder Example:Current Thought: “I always mess things up.”Rung 1: “Sometimes I make mistakes, like everyone else.”Rung 2: “There are things I’ve done well, even if I…
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Cozy Productivity for the Neurodivergent Soul: Gentle Tricks That Actually Help
You don’t have to bulldoze your way through tasks. You can gently, imperfectly move forward—with lo-fi beats, warm lighting, a friend folding socks nearby, and a playlist that makes your brain feel like it’s floating.This is productivity for people who want to feel safe, not squeezed. Slow. Cozy. Enough.
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Things My Father Said; Things He Didn’t
My father used to call me wombat.For a long time, I assumed it was his way of saying, “You’re a little funny-looking, but we’re fond of you anyway.” I mean, look at wombats. They’re stubby, stubborn little marsupials who don’t exactly win beauty contests. So I took it as a mildly affectionate jab — the…
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The Compass Within: Understanding Polyvagal Theory
Beneath conscious awareness, your body is always scanning. This process—neuroception—determines whether you feel safe or at risk before your mind even registers it. It’s not about logic. It’s why a certain smell, a shift in tone, or an unfamiliar space can send your body into high alert before you understand why.For trauma survivors, neuroception can…
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The Eclectic Mosaic
I grew up with a narcissistic parent (nparent). My other parent was their enabler. Parentification, covert incest, financial abuse, emotional manipulation, and neglect. Actual physical issues were rare, though not non-existent. My self-worth depended solely on my nparent’s mood. I grew up walking on eggshells, dreading the slam of the car door, and freezing at…
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Why Spelling and Grammar Don’t Matter in Love
I was just a girl walking home from the bus stop. It was only two blocks from my house but, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something in the alley. A dead opossum. Not just dead. DEAD. Stiff as a board, tongue hanging out, dried blood pooled near her mouth, in the…
