I want to share something with you - something that was quietly placed in my heart and has stayed there ever since.
I was sitting in a grandfather ceremony, a Wachuma ceremony, and in that sacred space the grandfather offered me something simple. He said that the only true enemy is yourself. And the way he said it - there was no harshness in it. It was like being handed something precious. Like he was saying look here, this is where your freedom lives.
I’ve turned that over so many times since then. And what I’ve come to feel - not just understand, but feel - is that life is always, always trying to show us something. Not to punish us. Not because we’ve done something wrong. But because life is on our side in ways we sometimes can’t see when we’re in the middle of it.
Have you ever felt like the same thing keeps finding you? The same ache, a different face. The same feeling, a different situation. I have. And for a long time I didn’t understand that those patterns were actually life being incredibly patient and loving with me - offering me the same gentle question over and over. Are you ready to see this yet? Are you ready to come home to yourself?
Because that’s really what’s underneath all of it. A coming home.
So much of what we carry wasn’t even ours to begin with. Beliefs absorbed so young we mistook them for truth. That love has to be earned. That our worth lives somewhere outside of us - in what we achieve, what we own, who chooses us. And so we go looking out there to feel whole. And sometimes it works, for a little while, and it feels so good. And then it doesn’t. And that gap - that quiet ache that returns - that’s not failure. That’s actually an invitation. A loving one.
I know that place intimately. I spent years in it, learning to cope rather than listening to what my heart already knew. And I don’t share that to make it about my journey - I share it because I think you might recognize that feeling. That place where you’ve made peace with something that never quite sat right. Where you got very good at managing instead of moving through.
You are not broken. You never were. You are someone who has been doing the very best you could with what you knew and what you felt you had available to you. And that deserves such tenderness.
—
What I’ve found - for myself and for the people I’m honored to walk alongside - is that something shifts when we turn gently inward. Not to excavate or fix or force anything. Just to get a little curious. To ask softly, what is this showing me? What have I been reaching outward for that might be waiting for me inside?
One thing that has opened that door for so many people is this - try speaking your story out loud in the third person. Just to yourself, somewhere private. In the car. On a walk. Speak about yourself the way you would speak about someone you love deeply. She was doing the best she could. He was searching for something he didn’t yet have words for.
Something in you relaxes when you do that. You step outside the weight of the emotion and into something wider. And here’s what’s beautiful - this isn’t about discovering something new. Most of us already sense what isn’t working. We feel where we’ve been abandoning ourselves, where we’ve stayed quiet when something in us wanted to speak, where we’ve said yes when our whole body was saying no. What changes when you can hold your own story with a little more tenderness is that you stop leaving yourself behind. The gap between what you feel and what you actually choose begins to close. Not because you forced it — but because you finally felt safe enough within yourself to take the next step that was always waiting for you.
You are already creating your life - you always have been. And you are already whole - even when it doesn’t feel that way. Sometimes we just need a little help seeing what’s always been true about us.
If you feel called to explore this more deeply, I’m here.
With love and blessings,
Susan