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Not everything that needs care is broken.
Some things are simply worn from being carried too long without rest.Daring to Mend is a space for noticing that difference.
I write here about what helped me stay — with myself, with uncertainty, with the slow work of repair. The tools I share didn’t work instantly or perfectly. They wove themselves into my thoughts, actions, and behaviors over time. Quietly. Unevenly. Steadily.
This site isn’t guidance.
It’s more like a conversation over coffee or tea.
Maybe even a glass of water.It’s company.
There’s no right way to be here.
You don’t need to read everything.
You don’t need to start at the beginning.
You don’t need to remember what you read last time.
You’re welcome to:
Read one piece and leave
Sit with something quietly
Come back later
Or decide this isn’t the right moment
This space is:
Reflective rather than instructional
Grounded in lived experience
Interested in repair, not reinvention
Patient with uncertainty and imperfection
*Coming Soon* Small batch hand-crafted or pre-loved items, publications, and digital companions
*Coming Soon* Items meant to be held, used, or kept near by
This space isn’t:
A program, plan, or pitch for personal coaching services
A promise to fix anything
A place that asks you (or I) to perform healing
A space that rushes you toward a certain outcome
If you’re tired of urgency, you’re in the right place.
On Saints, Sacrifice, and a Poet Who Might Have Started All This. Every year around this time, everything turns pink. Suddenly we are all supposed
I want to pause and express gratitude. I’ve been struggling a bit lately with additional weight loss, and my appetite seems to be creeping back
A candle holds the day in amber light, its small flame breathing slow and kind. Piano notes fall gently—Mozart-soft— meeting the steady murmur of running
(Not Fix, Not Cure — Mend) For a long time, I believed healing was supposed to arrive all at once. A realization. A turning point.
Feeling Like You’re Starting Over Switching careers at this stage feels a lot like trying to crack a nut with a spoon. Exciting? Sure. Overwhelming?
Today felt off. After a few genuinely productive days in a row, I woke up irritable, unsettled, and uncomfortable in my own skin. The weather
Long-term stress doesn’t always look like panic. Sometimes it looks like competence. Like shutting off the extra feelings, narrowing life down to what’s necessary, doing
Lately, I’ve been working intentionally with my severe ADHD tendencies—not by forcing myself into rigid systems, but by building something sustainable: a daily baseline checklist,
Lately, the world has felt loud. Heavy. More than a little “off”… I’ve found myself absorbing more than I meant to—headlines, tension, the low hum
Yesterday was one of those days where nothing felt polished, but everything felt like it was calling me to keep pressing forward. I worked my
Happy New Year. Or, as I like to call it: the yearly reminder that I still don’t have this life thing figured out. This year,
A lot of our story has unfolded publicly, but much of the real work happens quietly, offstage—growth that doesn’t photograph well and doesn’t fit neatly
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