Sometimes, healing doesn't look like crying on the bathroom floor. Sometimes, healing looks like realising you've been holding your breath for 18 years and didn't know it.

There has been an interesting feeling around. I hear many describe it as "let's just get through this", while others feel a sense of the unknown, the question of "what will ever happen next?" tends to be the tone.

This week I got pissed off, and I mean really pissed off. I've been listening to incredible women who are strong, fiery, and just bloody amazing, and they're feeling caught up in knots and twists. They're unsure, worried, panicked, and they feel like their only option is maybe to leave something they've worked so hard for. Their confidence is low. They can't focus.

Jorge and I have been married for 16 years and have been together for 22. Some of you reading this might think, that's baby love! While others might wonder how we even got here. But over the last two weeks, I've been reflecting on love and what it all means. Perhaps it's the conversations I've been having with friends and clients that brought it up and made me wonder: what does it all mean?

This week, I’ve been sitting with a word. It’s not a big or fancy one, just a simple four-letter word that has been with me more times than I can count. HOPE.

We do this all the time, turning everyday moments into mini-dramas (drama cycles) in our heads. We assign meaning, make assumptions, and forget to ask ourselves if there’s another way to see it.