There are three types of people in this world: those who get gas when the light comes on, those who don’t let the tank fall below half, and those who fill up when they think about it. I am a “gas light” girl both as a driver and in life. I will go until I can’t anymore, but I’ve been increasingly longing for stillness and I now know why. Three years ago you couldn’t pay me to sit down. Life was about getting everything done and sitting still was a waste of time. Back then, se

The luxury of being single with no kids is not having holiday obligations. Instead of worrying about gifts (which I told my family I wasn’t interested in exchanging as of two years ago), I'm taking time to reflect on the year and prepare for 2019. Don’t get me wrong, family is EXTREMELY important to me, and I WILL be spending quality time with loved ones over the next week. However, in the midst of the demands of this season, we each owe it to ourselves to take a moment to l

The way you do one thing is the way you do everything. My brother told me this a while ago, and the more I attend therapy, the more his words ring true. When issues rise in various aspects of life there is usually one common thread connecting all the problems. For me, it always starts with a lack of boundary setting. The idea of boundaries sounds limiting. No one wants to be told what they can and can’t do, especially as an adult. At the same time, I don’t know one person wh

This weekend I received a text from my mom informing me that she rode by my house two times at different points of the day and didn’t see my car. When I called her, she proceeded to tell me, “I read your blog about slowing down. Did you read it? You need to follow your own advice.” Oh, do I? I wonder where I learned this. Sad thing is, she wasn’t the only one to call me out. And, after sending myself to bed early to avoid a stress migraine last night, I've realized I don't kn

I entered this spring feeling like a dormant seed: buried, isolated, and unseen. It was too cold for me to grow; the only thing I could feel was rain. There wasn’t enough oxygen to breathe, and what I had inside me wasn’t enough to sustain me. I was submerged, and no one knew. With all the talking I do professionally, I never fixed my lips to speak to anyone about what I was feeling personally. I created the soil for my own suffering. My default was to keep going, but when I