There wasn’t one big dramatic moment. No movie-scene breakdown. No lightning bolt.
It was quieter than that.
It was a series of small, almost unnoticeable shifts. These shifts occur when you’re tired of carrying what was never yours to hold. They happen when your body whispers before it starts screaming. They are when your soul gently taps your shoulder and says, “hey… this isn’t it anymore.“
And suddenly, without planning to, I found myself standing in a completely different season.
Not broken. Not lost. Just… recalibrated.
This is the chapter where I stopped trying to survive my life and started designing it, and living it. As is.
The Old Pattern: Strong, But Tired
For most of my adult life, and some what, my childhood as well, my identity has been stitched together by responsibility. Motherhood. Partnership. Work. Holding it all down. Being the reliable one. The fixer. The emotionally available one. The woman who handles things.
And listen, err…read… I’m proud of that version of me. She was resilient. She was resourceful. She loved deeply. She showed up even when she was empty, so strong and so poised.
But she was also tired. So, very, tired.
Tired of self-abandoning. Tired of shrinking, or making herself small. Tired of explaining herself, maybe even sometimes over-explaining. Tired of being in environments that felt heavy, and overstimulated instead of expansive and calm.
Somewhere along the way, my nervous system learned chaos as normal. My body learned to brace instead of breathe. My mind learned to stay alert instead of at ease. Survival mode.
And eventually, the universe, lovingly unhinged as always, said: “Cool. You’re not listening. Let’s shake the table.“
So it did.
Not gently. Not politely. But effectively.
The Plot Twist Era
Here’s the thing no one really tells you about growth: It often looks like things falling apart.
Not because you’re failing, but because you’re outgrowing.
And lately, life has been throwing curveballs with zero warning labels. Situations I didn’t see coming. Truths I didn’t expect. Endings I didn’t plan for. Energy shifts that felt sudden but, in hindsight, were long overdue. It’s been messy. Disorienting. Emotionally loud.
But also… clarifying.
Because when everything external feels unstable, you either collapse inward, or you finally decide to become your own anchor.
I chose anchor.
Not the rigid kind. The grounded kind. The kind that says, “I don’t need to control the storm, I just need to trust myself inside it.“
Choosing Me (Without Burning Everything Down)
Let’s be clear about something; choosing yourself doesn’t mean abandoning your entire life. It doesn’t mean blowing things up or walking away from your responsibilities or becoming a feral woman in the woods (although… tempting).
It means this instead:
Listening to your body instead of overriding it.
Honouring your boundaries instead of negotiating them
Making decisions that feel peaceful instead of performative
Letting go of roles that need you to disappear
Building a life that feels sustainable, not impressive
Lately, my focus hasn’t been on doing more. It’s been on doing less, better.
Less people-pleasing. Less over-explaining. Less emotional labour for things that don’t deserve my energy.
More walking. More nature. More quiet mornings. More nervous system regulation. More choosing environments that feel safe instead of stimulating.
More me. More choosing me.
And honestly? It’s been wildly unglamorous and deeply healing.
Which is my new favorite combo.
The Soft Life Isn’t Soft, but Strong
Somewhere along the way, “rest” became a trend and “soft life” became aestheticized; bubble baths, silk pajamas, latte foam art.
Cute. Love that.
But the real soft life?
It’s not spa vibes. It’s nervous system repair. It’s learning to sit still without spiraling. It’s not chasing chaos because calm feels boring. It’s choosing consistency over chemistry. It’s letting peace be enough.
It’s saying: “I don’t want to be in survival mode anymore. I want to be in alignment mode.”
And that shift, from survival to alignment, changes everything.
How you move. How you love. How you work. How you rest. How you tolerate. How you leave.
I used to push. Now I pause.
I used to hustle. Now I regulate.
I used to override my intuition. Now I build around it.
It’s a growth glow-up, but we are making it internal.
Nature Has Been Doing the Heavy Lifting
If you’ve been following along lately, you already know. Nature has always been my therapist and my church. It is my nervous system chiropractor and my emotional processing department.
Walking. Hiking. Standing near water. Sitting in silence. Letting trees witness my breakdowns.
There’s something about being in wide open spaces that reminds your body it doesn’t need to brace anymore. That it’s safe to breathe. That it’s safe to soften. That it’s safe to not know what’s next. And honestly, every time I go outside, I come back more myself.
Less tight. Less reactive. Less guarded.
More grounded. More present. More regulated.
Which, as a mom, a woman, and really, overall a human who carries a lot, is priceless.
The Wildest Plot Twist: Peace
Here’s what’s surprised me most about this whole shift:
Peace feels… unfamiliar.
Not scary. Not boring. Just different.
There’s no adrenaline. No chaos. No constant emotional highs and lows. That anxiousness you wake up with every morning, dreading of what will happen, or endless what ifs.
Just steadiness. Consistency. Quiet joy.
And at first, my nervous system was like: “Um excuse me!! Where’s the drama? Where’s the urgency? Where’s the crisis we’re supposed to solve?”
But slowly, gently, lovingly… it learned.
That safety doesn’t have to be loud. That stability isn’t stagnation. That calm is not the absence of excitement, it’s the presence of peace.
And now?
I crave it.
I’m Not Reinventing, I’m Returning
This season isn’t about becoming someone new.
It’s about remembering who I was before the world told me to shrink. Before survival became default. Before I learned to override my intuition. Before I learned to carry more than I was meant to. This version of me? She walks slower. She says no faster. She listens harder. She rests unapologetically. She chooses herself without making it dramatic. She’s no longer chasing, she’s aligning. Not forcing, just flowing. Not surviving, just inhabiting her life. And honestly, that feels like the biggest glow-up of my entire existence.
Let me say this gently:
You’re not crazy. You’re not broken. You’re not behind.
You’re likely just outgrowing.
Outgrowing versions of yourself that kept you safe once but can’t take you where you’re going. Outgrowing environments that require you to shrink. Outgrowing cycles that keep your nervous system on high alert.
And that discomfort? That disorientation? That “what the hell is happening to my life right now?” feeling?
That’s not collapse. That’s recalibration.
You’re not losing your footing. You’re finding your alignment.
Right now, my focus is simple:
• My nervous system • My peace • My kids • My body • My creativity • My joy • My rest • My intuition
Not perfection. Not productivity. Not hustle. Not proving.
Just presence.
It feels like coming home.
Final Thoughts (Because This Is a Blog, Not a Therapy Session… But Barely)
If there’s one thing this season has taught me, it’s this:
Life will keep throwing random, unhinged plot twists, but the real power is in how you respond. You can resist. You can spiral. You can cling to what’s familiar.
Or…(and really stop for a second, and ponder…)
You can pause. You can breathe. You can listen. You can choose yourself.
Not dramatically. Not selfishly. Not loudly.
Just honestly.
And sometimes, that quiet decision changes everything.
Images throughout this post reflect this season of slowing down. It is a time for grounding and returning to self. Moments of solitude, nature, and softness are highlighted. Choosing peace over pressure is emphasized.
Mama Wanderlusts 
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