Reflecting on this year, I find myself smiling at my present moment. It has been a hard year. Truly, the last ten have been grueling. And yet, right now, I feel deeply grateful.

After a lifetime of hyper-vigilance, it feels almost strange to notice that my default is slowly, gently shifting toward rest, joy, and peace. This journey began the moment I was conceived, but it came into conscious focus after the birth of my second child, my wonderful boy Jace; when being the “perfect” mom was no longer possible. That season brought immense grief and heartache. The pressure was relentless. In a reality that felt completely out of control, my need to hold everything together only tightened its grip… and I came undone.

It feels productive to tackle healing with an all in energy. This is why for many years I did MORE when I felt distant from my goals. I saw myself broken, needing to be fixed, so I kept myself under the whip of self-criticism, judgment, and constant inner performance reviews. I thought digging harder would heal me but it only flooded my body with stress until I ran myself into the ground. Beneath it all was the quiet, relentless story: I’m not enough. Fear drove my every move, and I was always trying to be someone other than me.

Asking questions has become one of the most supportive tools in my healing. I’ve come to see that curiosity isn’t passive at all… it’s deeply powerful and quietly transformative. When I approach myself with questions instead of judgment, something softens. I come back into relationship with myself.

Resilience isn’t about removing, fixing, or changing the parts of us we struggle with. It’s about meeting what is with compassion, curiosity, and honesty, and then equipping and resourcing ourselves with what we actually need. When we focus on building the new rather than fighting the old, change begins to happen organically. Healing doesn’t have to be forced; it unfolds when the right supports are in place.

Learning to tune into my husband’s heart –especially when I am navigating my own triggers, insecurities, or emotional turmoil– has become a kind of quiet superpower for me. It has helped restore a deep sense of safety, trust, and connection in our marriage, and it has shown me what it truly means to be a soft place to land for someone I love.

I’m learning that my limiting beliefs aren’t just false narratives to override with my mind. They are responses; signals pointing to stories that have been held in my body, unfelt, unprocessed, and unhealed.

When I feel the urge to carve my worth out of the world –to prove that I am significant, valid, and worthy of taking up space– I know I’ve slipped into survival. Scarcity. A way of relating that can never lead to true confidence, love, or abundance.

I’ve noticed two powerful things happen when I coach my clients to meet nervous system dysregulation with acceptance and connection.

I’m 40 years old, and honestly, the most meaningful beauty routine I’ve discovered is one that centers my happiness. I know how this can sound… cliché, or even insensitive. I get it. I have a relationship with depression, so saying that focusing on happiness helps me look my best can feel complicated.

When rumination or intrusive memories show up for me, I no longer see them as something to get rid of or fix. I’ve learned to treat them as signals; invitations to slow down and listen.

Diving into the skills was such an empowering journey. At first, it felt like I could finally solve all my problems and reach the outcomes I had been striving so hard for… to fix my broken marriage… to fix what felt broken in me. In the beginning, that relationship with the skills felt true. I got quick results, and through hard work and a tender, uncomfortable surrender, I experienced real transformation in my marriage. I even felt healed from insecurities that used to plague me. It was life-changing.

When I told my husband, “You don’t need to ask for permission, I trust you,” I could literally see the relief spread across his body. His response was full of gratitude. He smiled, moved closer, and showed me adoration and affection in a way that felt completely new.

You know, for most of my life I have had this strongly rooted belief that I need to be fixed. Deep down, I thought something was broken in me that had to be repaired.

While I pedaled toward this unreachable existence –to be magically “fixed”– I came to learn that what I actually needed, was acceptance…

Being self-aware hasn’t always been productive for me. For a long time, it kept me stuck in my head, anxious, intellectualizing, dissociating, ruminating. I would analyze, plan, and process endlessly, yet regulation and connection always felt out of reach. It was like learning all the theory about how to solve a problem, only to feel completely overwhelmed and underprepared when I actually faced it.

Something I’ve discovered through this work:

Trying to change a behavior or perspective, be it my own or someone else’s almost always ends in frustration and disappointment, at least on the surface. On a deeper level, it often fuels cycles of shame and judgment, leaving everyone feeling stuck, disconnected, or resentful. The harder I try to control outcomes, the more energy is drained, and the more distance grows between what I want and what actually unfolds.