Mental Health

Put Your Own Mask On First

We hear it every time we board a plane: “In the event of a loss in cabin pressure, secure your own mask before assisting others.” It’s one of those instructions that seems counterintuitive—especially for the givers, the fixers, the caretakers among us. But when you stop to really think about it, it’s not just an airline safety rule—it’s a life lesson.

For a long time, I didn’t put on my own mask first. I’d jump in to help anyone else—whether they asked or not—believing it made me strong, loving, dependable. I was the one people could count on. But quietly, I was falling apart. I was suffocating. And I didn’t even realize it until I was gasping for air.

You Can’t Pour From an Empty Cup

We’ve all heard that saying, but how many of us actually live it?

If you’ve been conditioned to believe your worth is tied to your usefulness, rest might feel selfish. Saying no might feel wrong. Asking for space might trigger guilt. But here’s the truth: constantly abandoning yourself to show up for others isn’t noble—it’s a fast track to burnout, resentment, and disconnection.

When you give from depletion, your help comes with a cost. You’re exhausted. You’re short-fused. You’re giving, but secretly hoping for a thank you, some recognition, a return on your emotional investment. And when that doesn’t come? It hurts. Because beneath all that self-sacrifice, you’re still human.

Putting your own mask on first isn’t selfish—it’s survival. It’s sustainability. It’s strength. When you’re nourished, rested, grounded—you give from overflow, not from emptiness. And everyone benefits from that version of you.

Self-Care Isn’t a Luxury—It’s a Responsibility

Somewhere along the way, we started seeing self-care as optional—as a bubble bath or a bonus. But self-care is how you keep yourself whole. It’s how you stay aligned. It’s the system check that makes sure you’re not running on fumes.

It’s not always glamorous. Sometimes, self-care is a boundary. Sometimes it’s canceling plans. Sometimes it’s letting someone else figure it out, even when you could fix it. It’s trusting that people can handle their own discomfort—and that it’s not your job to keep everything calm.

The truth is, constantly putting others first is often rooted in fear: What if they get mad? What if they leave? What if they think I’m selfish?

But ask yourself this: If you keep abandoning yourself to meet everyone else’s needs, what are you teaching them? That your needs don’t matter. That you’ll always sacrifice yourself. That love looks like martyrdom.

It doesn’t.

Show Up for You—First

Putting your own mask on first means taking inventory of your energy. It means asking: Am I okay? What do I need right now? Am I being honest about my limits?

When you start showing up for yourself, everything shifts. Your relationships become more balanced. Your boundaries become clearer. You stop saying yes when you mean no. You stop fixing what isn’t yours. And you start building a life that includes you.

This doesn’t mean you stop helping others. It just means you stop bleeding out for them. You choose to care without collapsing. You choose to support without suffocating. You choose to love from wholeness—not from empty lungs.

You’re not here to save everyone. You’re here to be you. And that’s more than enough.

So the next time you feel that urge to abandon yourself to keep the peace, to overextend just to be liked, or to put everyone ahead of you—pause. Breathe. Reach for your own mask first.

That’s not weakness. That’s wisdom.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you feel guilty putting your needs before others? Why?
  2. What areas of your life have suffered because you’ve neglected yourself?
  3. When was the last time you truly paused and checked in with you?
  4. How would your life change if you consistently put your needs first?
  5. What’s one small act of self-care you can commit to today?

S – Stop and assess what you really need
L – Let go of guilt tied to prioritizing yourself
A – Allow yourself to rest, recharge, and reset
Y – Yield to your own healing so you can truly thrive

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What does putting your own mask on first look like for you—and how has it changed your life?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who always puts themselves last, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

People-Pleasing Is Manipulation in Disguise

We often think of people-pleasing as a “nice” trait. We want to be liked, avoid conflict, and make others happy. But here’s the hard truth: people-pleasing is actually a form of manipulation.

I know that might sting. It did for me when I first realized it.

People-pleasing isn’t just about kindness—it’s about controlling how people see you. It’s about shaping their perception, keeping them happy so they won’t be upset with you, leave you, or think badly of you. And while it might look selfless on the surface, underneath it’s driven by fear and control.

When you live in that cycle, you’re not actually being authentic—you’re performing. And no performance lasts forever.

The Hidden Cost of Pleasing Everyone

For years, I lived in a world of quiet performance. I wanted everyone to like me. I thought if I kept everyone happy, no one could hurt me. I said yes when I wanted to say no. I laughed at things I didn’t find funny. I took on tasks I didn’t have time for. I agreed with opinions that didn’t reflect my own.

At the time, I thought I was being “easygoing” and “kind.” What I was really doing was trading my authenticity for approval.

Here’s the problem: people-pleasing keeps you stuck in a loop of resentment. You give and give to avoid conflict, but inside you feel empty, angry, and misunderstood. And the worst part? People aren’t seeing the real you—they’re seeing the version you think they want.

People-pleasing is not generosity. It’s fear in a nice outfit.

People-Pleasing Is About Control

When I finally started doing the work on myself, I realized that my need to please wasn’t selfless—it was controlling.

I wasn’t just helping others. I was managing their reactions to me. I was trying to avoid discomfort, dodge rejection, and secure love and approval without ever having to risk showing my true self.

Here’s the truth:

  • When you say yes but mean no, you’re lying.
  • When you overextend yourself to avoid someone’s disappointment, you’re manipulating their perception.
  • When you pretend to agree just to keep the peace, you’re abandoning yourself.

It’s hard to admit, but once I faced it, I felt…free. I wasn’t “nice.” I was scared. And I was hiding behind compliance to stay safe.

Breaking the Cycle

Learning to stop people-pleasing is like building a new muscle. At first, it feels foreign. It feels risky. It even feels mean—because you’re so used to putting everyone else first.

Here’s what helped me break free:

  1. Get Honest About Your Motives
    Before saying yes, ask yourself: Am I doing this out of love and choice, or fear and control?
  2. Sit with Discomfort
    Saying no, setting boundaries, or letting someone be upset with you will feel uncomfortable. Sit in it. That discomfort is your freedom forming.
  3. Reclaim Your Voice
    When you start telling the truth—“I can’t commit to that,” “I don’t feel comfortable,” or simply, “No”—you’ll feel your power return.
  4. Detach from Approval
    Not everyone will like you. Not everyone will understand you. But people who love the real you will stay, and those who only loved the performance will fade.

The Power of Authenticity

The shift from people-pleasing to authenticity changed my life.

When I stopped performing, I discovered who actually belonged in my life. I learned that relationships built on honesty are stronger than relationships built on compliance. And most importantly, I learned to trust myself again.

When you release the need to control how others see you, you also release the constant exhaustion of managing everyone else’s feelings. You step out of manipulation and into freedom.

So the next time you feel the pull to please, pause. Ask yourself: Am I doing this out of love, or out of fear? Am I honoring myself, or abandoning myself to keep the peace?

The real you is always worth showing. And the people who are meant for you will meet you there.

Choose truth over performance. Choose authenticity over approval. Choose you.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Do you often say yes when you mean no? Why?
  2. How does people-pleasing keep you in cycles of resentment?
  3. Can you recall a time you were honest about your boundaries? How did it feel?
  4. What relationships in your life are based on performance instead of authenticity?
  5. What’s one small step you can take today to stop people-pleasing and start honoring yourself?

S – Stop and notice when you’re abandoning yourself for approval
L – Let go of the need to manage how others see you
A – Align your choices with your truth, not your fear
Y – Yield to authenticity, even when it feels uncomfortable

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
Where does people-pleasing still show up in your life, and how are you working to break free?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling with saying yes when they want to say no, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is permission to stop performing.

Their Storm, Not Your Forecast

There’s a strange pressure to get swept up in someone else’s chaos. To absorb their anger, defend against their projections, or even try to fix what they refuse to face. Especially if you’re a deeply empathetic person, it can be hard to remember:

Not every storm requires your umbrella.

Just because someone is bringing drama, blame, or emotional thunder into the room doesn’t mean you have to get soaked.

It might sound harsh, but not every meltdown, every mood, or every mess is yours to carry.

Let’s be real—some people thrive in the whirlwind. They create it. They stir up tension, throw lightning bolts, and wait to see who gets scorched. And if you’re not careful, you’ll mistake their storm for your reality.

You’re Not the Weather Channel

Here’s the thing: just because they’re forecasting doom doesn’t mean you have to build an ark. We can love people, support people, and still refuse to be pulled under by their emotional riptide.

Your peace isn’t up for negotiation.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is this: if someone is committed to chaos, no amount of calm you bring will change them. You don’t have to match their energy, explain yourself endlessly, or prove your worth in the face of their projection.

Your job is to stay grounded in your truth.

People will accuse you of being cold, distant, or selfish when you refuse to engage in their drama. Let them. You’re not required to participate in every emotional argument you’re invited to.

Calm Isn’t Weak—It’s Wise

Some storms are loud. Others are subtle. But all of them share one trait: they pull you away from your center. When you stay calm in the face of emotional turbulence, you’re not being passive—you’re being powerful.

Calm is a boundary.

It says: “I’m not going to argue with someone who’s not listening. I’m not going to internalize someone else’s pain. I’m not going to let your storm become my identity.”

This doesn’t mean you don’t care. It means you care enough about yourself to know the difference between being present and being consumed.

Detach Without Guilt

If you’ve ever grown up in dysfunction, chaos might feel familiar—even comfortable. You may have learned to overfunction, to fix, to please, to manage the emotions of others so things wouldn’t blow up. But that’s not your role anymore.

You can walk away. You can say, “This isn’t mine.” You can let someone rage, spiral, or stew without stepping into the storm.

Because here’s the truth: the storm isn’t personal. Even if it’s aimed at you, it’s not really about you. It’s about their unhealed pain. Their fear. Their need for control.

You didn’t cause it, and you don’t have to catch it.

Protect Your Inner Weather

Boundaries aren’t walls, they’re windows. They let in light and fresh air, but they keep out the hail. When you feel that pull to jump into someone else’s chaos, pause and ask:

  • Is this really mine?
  • What happens if I don’t respond?
  • What would it look like to stay rooted in my calm?

Because that’s the goal: to be so in tune with your own emotional forecast that someone else’s storm can roll through without ever touching your peace.

Let them weather it. You’ve got sunshine to protect.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Have you ever mistaken someone else’s storm as your responsibility to fix?
  2. What patterns from your past make chaos feel familiar or expected?
  3. When was the last time you stayed calm in a moment of drama—and how did that feel?
  4. What’s one situation right now where you can say, “This isn’t mine”?
  5. How can you strengthen your boundaries to protect your inner peace?

S – Step away from unnecessary emotional storms
L – Let go of the need to fix what isn’t yours
A – Acknowledge your limits with compassion
Y – Yield to peace, not pressure

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s one way you’ve protected your peace by not engaging in someone else’s storm?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s always caught in the swirl of someone else’s drama, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a reminder that peace is a choice.

Boundaries Don’t Burn Bridges, They Protect Castles

We often think of boundaries as walls—cold, hard, unmovable. Something that keeps people out. Something that severs ties. But boundaries aren’t built to burn bridges; they’re created to protect the castles we live in: our peace, our worth, our mental and emotional well-being.

Setting boundaries doesn’t make you selfish or difficult. It makes you safe. It makes you sovereign over your own life.

Castles Require Protection

Think about what a castle is: it’s a sanctuary. A stronghold. A place where something valuable lives. And yet, without a gate, without guards, without a moat, it’s just a target.

You are the castle.

Your energy, your time, your kindness, your heart—these are the treasures inside. Boundaries are how you decide who gets access, and under what conditions. They are not about shutting everyone out. They are about making sure that those who enter are willing to honor the space, not pillage it.

If someone sees your boundary as a betrayal, they were never meant to be in your castle to begin with.

Burning Bridges vs. Building Balance

There’s a big difference between cutting someone off out of spite and setting a boundary to preserve your well-being. But not everyone will see it that way—especially those who benefited from you not having boundaries before.

Let that be a red flag.

When someone is upset that you’re taking care of yourself, it says more about them than it does about you. Your healing will threaten the dynamics that were built on your silence, your sacrifice, and your people-pleasing. And when those dynamics shift, don’t be surprised if some bridges fall down on their own.

Let them.

Not every bridge is meant to last forever. Some were only built to teach you how not to be walked on.

Boundaries Are Not Barriers to Love

It can feel scary to draw the line—especially with people we care about. We worry they’ll see us differently. That we’ll lose them. That they’ll think we don’t love them anymore. But the truth is, love that can’t coexist with boundaries isn’t really love.

It’s control. It’s codependency. It’s convenience.

Love honors the sacred. And what could be more sacred than your well-being?

Setting a boundary is not an act of war. It’s an act of self-respect. It’s saying, “I care enough about myself to choose what I allow into my life.”

Those who love you well will walk through your gates, not try to climb your walls.

You Don’t Owe Anyone Access to Your Peace

Let that sink in.

You don’t owe explanations. You don’t owe justifications. You don’t owe your energy to people who constantly drain it. You don’t owe a single brick from your castle to anyone who hasn’t proven they know how to build.

It’s not easy to maintain boundaries, especially when guilt or fear creeps in. But remember this:

Every time you choose your peace over your people-pleasing, you reinforce the walls that keep your life safe and sacred.

Protect your castle. The right people will come with open hands, not demands.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Where in your life have you struggled to set boundaries?
  2. What have you been afraid might happen if you did?
  3. How does it feel when someone respects your boundaries without question?
  4. What does your “castle” need more protection from right now?
  5. How can you reinforce your emotional boundaries with love and clarity?

S – Stand strong in your worth
L – Let go of guilt around protecting your peace
A – Ask for what you need without apology
Y – Yield only to love that respects your lines

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What boundaries have helped protect your peace?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s afraid to set boundaries, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Slay Say

You Don’t Need a Stage to Make an Impact

You may never know who’s watching, or whose life you’re silently shifting just by staying the course.
The most meaningful encouragement often doesn’t come with applause—it comes with resonance.

Your courage to keep going, even when no one’s looking, might be the very thing that gives someone else the strength to do the same.

This is your reminder to keep showing up—not for validation, but because your story holds power, even if it unfolds quietly.

SLAY on.

Letting Go Doesn’t Mean Forgetting

There are moments in life that mark us so deeply, they carve their names into our memory. A love we lost. A chapter that closed too soon. A person who changed us forever. And when we talk about letting go, it can feel like we’re being asked to erase those parts of our story—to forget, to move on, to pretend it never meant as much as it did.

But letting go doesn’t mean forgetting. It means learning how to carry the past with you without letting it weigh you down.

There is a quiet kind of strength in remembering. In holding onto what once made your heart full, not to relive it or rewrite it—but to honor it. Letting go is not an erasure. It’s an act of transformation.

You Can Turn the Page Without Tearing It Out

I used to think that moving on meant forgetting. That in order to stop the ache, I had to pretend the past didn’t exist. But the truth is, the ache only grew louder when I tried to silence it.

Grief, loss, heartbreak—they don’t disappear just because we’re tired of feeling them. They soften when we allow them to be part of us. When we stop fighting them. When we let them shape us, instead of shame us.

The chapters that break us open are still part of our story. They don’t need to be rewritten. They need to be remembered. With tenderness. With clarity. With the understanding that they taught us something essential about who we are.

So no, you don’t need to forget. You just need to stop clutching the past so tightly that your hands aren’t free to receive what’s next.

Memory Is Not the Enemy

We’re told to move on. To get over it. To stop living in the past. And while yes, healing requires forward motion, it doesn’t require amnesia.

You can move forward and still feel. You can carry love and loss in the same breath.

Letting go is not about abandoning your memories. It’s about finding the strength to acknowledge them—even the painful ones—and still take the next step.

I had to learn how to hold space for both: the ache of what was, and the hope of what could be. And in doing that, I discovered something surprising:

The past doesn’t hold me hostage when I stop trying to run from it.

Instead, it becomes something I carry—not with regret, but with reverence.

Life Moves On, and So Can You

There’s a moment in every healing journey when you realize: you can miss what was, love who you were, and still choose to turn the page.

Letting go is not a betrayal of the past. It’s a commitment to your future.

You can bring everything you’ve learned with you. The beauty. The brokenness. The truth. All of it.

Letting go is about making peace with what no longer fits, not because it wasn’t real, but because you are growing.

So don’t rush to forget. Don’t erase what made you feel. Let the memories come. Let them stay. Just don’t let them stop you from living the life that’s waiting for you now.

Let your purpose lead. It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Is there something in your past you’ve been trying to forget in order to move on?
  2. How might you carry it differently—with tenderness instead of pain?
  3. What have your most difficult moments taught you about yourself?
  4. Are you ready to stop running and start remembering?
  5. What would turning the page look like for you today?

S – Sit with your memories, even the hard ones
L – Let yourself feel without needing to fix
A – Accept what was, and honor how it shaped you
Y – Yield to growth—even when it hurts

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What is something from your past that you now carry with love instead of pain?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s struggling to let go, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

You Did Nothing Wrong By Asking To Be Treated Right

There was a time in my life when I second-guessed myself. I would speak up when something didn’t feel good, and then spiral afterward—replaying the moment in my head, wondering if I was overreacting, if I made things awkward, if I should have just stayed quiet.

But here’s the truth I wish I had known sooner:

You did nothing wrong by asking to be treated right.

There is nothing wrong with saying “that hurt my feelings” or “I don’t like how that made me feel.” There is nothing wrong with saying “I deserve better than this.” Because you do. You always have.

What is wrong is how often we’re taught to feel guilty for setting a boundary. We’re told we’re too sensitive, too difficult, too much. So we shrink. We tolerate. We accept less. And with each time we swallow our truth, we chip away at the trust we have with ourselves.

Over time, we begin to question whether we even deserve what we’re asking for. We start to silence ourselves before anyone else even has the chance to.

But the voice inside you that whispers, “this doesn’t feel right”—that voice is sacred. And it deserves to be heard.

We’re often praised for how much we can endure, how quiet we can stay, how agreeable we can be. But healing isn’t about being palatable. It’s about being real.

It’s about letting go of the version of you that never got to speak up, and becoming the version who knows how to say, “I’m not okay with this.”

Because you matter. What you feel matters. What you need matters.

It’s Not Asking for Too Much

It’s not just about the person on the other end of the conversation. It’s about you. Your self-worth. Your healing. Your nervous system. The way you allow yourself to take up space and take care of yourself.

Honoring how you feel isn’t selfish—it’s self-respect.

Asking to be treated with kindness, consistency, and care is not asking for too much. It’s asking for the bare minimum. And if someone can’t meet you there, that’s not your failure. That’s their limitation.

You don’t have to convince people to do the right thing. You just have to be willing to do the right thing for yourself.

Letting people know where your lines are isn’t pushing them away. It’s giving them a clear map of how to love you.

And if they walk away? Let them. Anyone who leaves because you asked for respect was never offering it to begin with.

Protecting your peace is not dramatic. It’s necessary. Saying “no more” is not cruelty. It’s clarity. And standing up for yourself is not a betrayal of others—it’s a commitment to yourself.

When you start honoring what you know to be true, you stop seeking validation from people who never had the capacity to see you clearly.

Trust What You Know

So if you’ve ever walked away from a conversation, a relationship, or a space because your boundaries weren’t honored—let me remind you:

You did not fail.
You did not overreact.
You did not do anything wrong.

You simply chose yourself.
And that is something to be proud of.

You’re not hard to love—just hard to manipulate. And anyone who’s confused by that difference was never meant to hold your heart.

Let your purpose lead. It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

  1. Have you ever felt guilty for speaking up about how you were treated?
  2. Where in your life are you still tolerating what doesn’t feel good?
  3. What would change if you fully trusted your feelings and instincts?
  4. Who in your life consistently respects your boundaries?
  5. How might your life shift if you believed you weren’t “too much” for simply asking for respect?

S – Speak your truth without apology
L – Let your boundaries be your guide
A – Ask for what honors your worth
Y – Yield to self-respect over people-pleasing

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s something you’ve asked for that made you feel proud for standing up for yourself?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s second-guessing themselves for speaking up, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Chase Purpose, Not People

There was a time in my life when I was constantly chasing people—their attention, their approval, their love.

I thought if I could earn it, maybe I’d finally feel like I was enough.

But no matter how much I gave, how much I bent, or how much of myself I lost in the process…
it never felt like enough.

Because it was never supposed to be.

I wasn’t meant to chase people.
I was meant to chase purpose.
And so were you.

When We Abandon Ourselves

When we get stuck in the cycle of proving our worth to others, we end up abandoning ourselves.

We ignore what lights us up.
We try to become what we think they want.
We twist. We shrink. We perform.

We lose the very parts of ourselves that were never meant to be hidden.

And the worst part?
The more we shape-shift to please, the more invisible we become—to others and to ourselves.

Purpose Doesn’t Need to Be Impressed

Purpose is steady.
It doesn’t need applause.
It doesn’t need permission.

It doesn’t ask you to chase it—only to follow.

When I started focusing on my purpose—my healing, my growth, my creativity, my peace—it all got clearer.

I could see what was aligned.
I could feel who was for me and who never was.
The people who truly belonged in my life didn’t need to be convinced. They didn’t need to be chased. They just showed up.

And not for what I could do for them.
But for who I was becoming.

Let Purpose Lead

The truth is:
You are never too much for the right people.
And you are never not enough for the path that was made for you.

So if you’re feeling left out, overlooked, or unseen—it might not be because something’s wrong with you.

It might be because you’re not meant to follow them.

You’re meant to follow you.

Let your purpose lead.
It knows the way.

SLAY Reflection

Do you ever find yourself chasing people instead of aligning with your purpose?
What does “chasing purpose” look like in your life right now?
Who in your life supports your growth without needing you to earn their love?
What’s one step you can take today to move closer to your purpose?
How might your life shift if you stopped proving yourself and started honoring yourself?

S — Show up for yourself
L — Let go of needing approval
A — Align with your purpose
Y — Yield to what feels right, not who feels familiar

Call to Action: Join the Conversation

I’d love to hear from you.
What’s something you’ve stopped chasing in order to start honoring your purpose?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s trying to hold onto people instead of themselves, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

When a Child is Shamed for Feelings, They Don’t Stop Feeling—They Stop Trusting

There’s a heartbreaking truth many of us come to learn too late:

When a child is shamed for having feelings, they don’t stop feeling. They stop trusting.

They stop trusting their emotions. They stop trusting their voice. And eventually, they stop trusting themselves.

We often teach kids—intentionally or not—that certain feelings are too much, too messy, too inconvenient. That anger is bad. That sadness is weakness. That fear is overreacting. We hush them. We roll our eyes. We tell them to “get over it” or “calm down.” But what we’re really saying is: Your feelings don’t belong here.

And that message doesn’t just sting in the moment. It stays.

The Seeds of Self-Doubt

When we shame a child’s feelings, we’re not teaching emotional regulation—we’re teaching emotional suppression.

Instead of learning how to navigate their emotions, they learn to ignore them, question them, or feel guilt and embarrassment for even having them in the first place.

They start asking:

  • “Why am I so sensitive?”
  • “What’s wrong with me?”
  • “Why can’t I just be normal?”

These questions don’t come from nowhere. They come from a world that told them, early on, that their natural responses were somehow wrong.

Unlearning the Silence

As adults, many of us carry this conditioning into our relationships, our workplaces, and our inner dialogue. We still quiet our feelings. We second-guess our instincts. We feel shame for emotions that are perfectly human.

But here’s the thing: Our feelings don’t go away just because we learned to hide them.

They find other ways to come out—through anxiety, depression, emotional outbursts, or chronic people-pleasing. The body keeps the score. The heart remembers.

Healing begins when we give ourselves permission to feel again. To validate what was once invalidated. To trust that our emotions have something to teach us, not something to be ashamed of.

Reparenting Starts With Awareness

Maybe you were that child. Maybe you’re still carrying the weight of being told to “toughen up” or “stop crying.”

Or maybe you’ve caught yourself repeating those phrases to someone else—not out of cruelty, but because it’s what you were taught.

Here’s the good news: You can stop the cycle.

You can start by:

  • Saying “I hear you” instead of “you’re overreacting.”
  • Asking “What are you feeling?” instead of “What’s wrong with you?”
  • Letting your own emotions be seen, so others feel safe showing theirs.

You don’t need to have all the answers. You just need to be a safe place.

SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • Was I shamed for showing emotion as a child?
  • How did that shape the way I express or suppress feelings today?
  • Do I trust my emotional responses—or do I second-guess them?
  • How can I begin validating my emotions, rather than hiding or judging them?
  • What would it feel like to create space for someone else to share, without judgment?

S – L – A – Y

S: See where your emotional patterns began.
L: Listen to your inner voice with compassion.
A: Allow your feelings to surface without shame.
Y: Yield to the wisdom your emotions are offering.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
Were you taught to suppress your emotions as a child—and how has that shaped your journey?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s learning to feel again, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.

Confirmation Bias

We all want to believe we’re right. That the thoughts we have are the truth. That what we fear is valid. That what we suspect about others is accurate. And so, often without realizing it, we go looking for proof. Not for the truth—but for what we already believe.

That’s confirmation bias.

And it can quietly wreck everything from our relationships to our self-worth.

What Are You Trying to Prove?

Here’s the thing about the human brain: it’s not always looking for truth. It’s looking for evidence that confirms what it already believes.

If your brain believes you’re not good enough, it will dismiss compliments and zero in on criticism.

If your brain thinks no one can be trusted, it will interpret a delayed text or a short tone as betrayal.

If you believe someone doesn’t like you, you’ll search their face and their actions for the tiniest piece of proof—and you’ll find it, even if it isn’t real.

We all do it. It’s human.

But when we act on that bias instead of reality, we reinforce the story we already believe—and miss the opportunity for connection, growth, and healing.

When I Believed the Worst

For a long time, I believed I was unworthy. That no matter how hard I tried, it was never enough. That I would always be the one left behind.

So I looked for proof.

I clung to any sign of rejection. I dismissed care or kindness because I assumed it wouldn’t last. I assumed I was being judged, even when no one was paying attention to me.

I thought I was being self-aware. I thought I was protecting myself.

But what I was really doing was building a case against myself, collecting data that wasn’t even true. And every time I gave weight to a moment of perceived rejection, I was closing a door. I was missing a chance to see that maybe the story I was telling myself wasn’t the whole truth.

And if it wasn’t the truth? Maybe I wasn’t broken after all.

How to Break the Bias

Awareness is everything.

Next time you find yourself thinking, “See? I knew it,” pause.

Ask yourself:

What am I trying to prove right now? And is this actually true—or just familiar?

Confirmation bias feels like safety. It feels like control. But really, it’s just an old loop. One you can break.

Try asking someone you trust for a reality check. Or write down your belief and then list the evidence for and against it.

Better yet, ask yourself: Would I talk to someone I love the way I’m talking to myself right now?

SLAY Reflection

Ask yourself:

  • What beliefs do I keep trying to prove?
  • Where did those beliefs come from?
  • How is confirmation bias limiting my relationships?
  • Do I trust my thoughts more than I trust what’s real?
  • What would it feel like to look for evidence of the opposite being true?

S – L – A – Y

S: Spot the belief that keeps repeating.
L: Listen for the moment you start searching for proof.
A: Ask yourself what else could be true.
Y: Yield to possibility. It’s where healing begins.

Call to Action: Join the Conversation
I’d love to hear from you.
What’s a belief you’ve spent a long time trying to prove—and what happened when you questioned it?
Share your story in the comments. Let’s cheer each other on.

And if you know someone who’s stuck in a loop of self-doubt, send this to them.
Sometimes, all we need is a nudge.