Healing in real time, what I've been learning these last few months.

There’s a version of healing no one prepares you for—the version that doesn’t happen in silence, on a retreat, or during a perfect season of life. It’s the kind that happens in real time… while you’re raising kids, building a business, managing your emotions, and trying not to fall apart in front of the people who depend on you.

Lately, I’ve been going through one of those seasons. The kind where life feels loud, confusing, and demanding, but your spirit is whispering, “Pay attention… this is where you grow.”

The Truth: Healing Isn’t Pretty

Healing isn’t aesthetically pleasing.

It’s not candlelit journaling or peaceful yoga mornings.

It’s triggers, old wounds reopening, and emotions I thought I processed years ago resurfacing without warning.

For a long time, I thought healing meant I would stop feeling pain altogether. But now I understand it's much deeper:

Healing doesn’t mean the pain disappears.

Healing means I’m no longer willing to abandon myself when the pain shows up.

Abandonment Wounds Don’t Just Disappear

I used to believe that once I healed something, it would never show up again. But abandonment wounds don’t work like that. They come back quietly—in moments of silence, uncertainty, or change—reminding me there’s still a part of me learning how to feel safe.

These past few months forced me to see how those wounds still show up:

    •    In relationships

    •    In the way I expect people to leave

    •    In the way I overthink silence

    •    In the way I try to pour into everyone else on days I can't even fill up my own cup

Healing for me right now looks like catching myself in the moment and saying:

“You don’t have to shrink. You don’t have to chase. You don’t have to overcompensate. You just have to stay with yourself.”

Fitness Is Still My Safe Space

When everything feels heavy, I go back to the one place that never fails me: movement.

Fitness saved me long before I ever knew what healing meant.

It grounds me.

It regulates my nervous system.

It reminds me that my body is strong even when my emotions feel delicate.

Everytime I show up for a workout, is a reminder to myself that, Rebuilding yourself just like your body, takes time. Stay patient. Stay focused. Stay RARE.

What I have to remind myself of daily:

    •    I don’t break—I evolve.

    •    I don’t lose—I get redirected.

    •    I don’t fail—I get refined.

    •    I’m not behind—I’m becoming.

    •    And the version of me emerging now… she’s the one I’ve been praying for.

This season is teaching me how to stay grounded through discomfort, speak truth over my triggers, and choose myself without guilt.

This is what being a RARE Woman looks like in real time:

Resilient. Ambitious. Radiant. Empowered.

Even in the messy chapters.