02/01/2026
I’ll be 28 this year, for my younger self, 🌬️✨
I’m laying the mask down.
Not because I’m brave—
but because I’m tired of pretending my body doesn’t speak,
that my mind doesn’t move differently,
that surviving hasn’t left marks.
Living with IBD/Crohn’s, Anxiety/ADHD, and beautiful young children has taught me how much effort it takes just to arrive in my own life.⚔️
For years, we searched for answers.
Years of being told this was normal.
That the pain was ordinary.
That the exhaustion was something to push through.
Being diagnosed later in life—especially as a woman—means carrying the grief of all the years you were taught not to trust yourself. Of being told you were dramatic, lazy, too sensitive. Of learning to doubt your own knowing.
Of the shame to talk,
So I learned to mask.
To smile through flare-ups and paralysis.
To be capable while unraveling.
Sometimes the gaslighting came from strangers.
Sometimes from people who loved me.
This year isn’t about becoming more.
It’s about becoming honest. It’s about becoming powerful in understanding it all, the learning and unlearning. 🪬🧬
I’m choosing to be the same person everywhere—
on screen and off,
in the yoga room and at home.
No polished version.
No leaving pieces of myself at the door to be believed.
I’m breaking cycles for my kids.
Teaching them that bodies aren’t problems to solve,
that rest is not weakness,
that emotions are weather—not failures.🪷
Like the earth, I hold seasons.
Dormancy. Growth. Repair.
Roots doing their work in the dark.
And I trust that this, too, is part of becoming.
If you feel this within yourself,
Or you just need a safe space to be seen and welcomed on your healing journey
Come sit with me on the mat.
Not to fix yourself.
Not to push.
Just to breathe, to soften, to remember your body is not lying.
In this season, we are choosing honesty over perfection.
Presence over performance.
Gentleness over grit. 🪽
This is what 28 looks like for me—
unmasked, tender, and still growing 🌱
