11/06/2026
Not unlike so many of us, I have had to move through many things.
An absent father.
A young mother doing the best she could with what she had.
Poverty.
Shame.
Self-doubt.
The longing to be loved.
The fear of being left.
There were years of acting auditions, waitressing late into the night, other strange jobs, uncertainty about where the path was leading, and many moments when it would have been easier to turn away from what felt true.
What carried me forward was not certainty.
It was a quiet sense that something essential was asking to be lived.
Over time, I have come to think less about becoming someone and more about returning to myself.
Again and again.
Not perfectly.
Not all at once.
But one honest step at a time.
The path has not always been clear.
There have been disappointments, losses, and seasons when I questioned everything.
Yet each time I found my way back to what mattered — awareness, practice, compassion, presence, writing, teaching — life became a little more aligned.
Not easier.
But truer.
And perhaps that is enough.
When I look at this little girl, I do not see someone who needed fixing.
I see someone who needed support.
Someone who needed protection.
Someone who needed to be seen clearly.
Perhaps that is part of what healing becomes.
Not creating a new self.
Not endlessly improving ourselves.
But meeting the parts of us that have been waiting patiently to be welcomed home.
And learning, little by little, to become the kind of presence we once needed.
So wherever you are on your own path, don't assume that confusion means you are lost.
Sometimes the path home begins with a single moment of honesty.
A willingness to stop abandoning yourself.
A willingness to stay.
The next step may not reveal the entire journey.
But it may reveal enough.
And sometimes enough is all we need.
🤍
