Mindfulness Practice

We grow up with stories of rescue. Fairytales. Cartoons. Romantic comedies. There’s always someone who swoops in just in time. A prince, a parent, a friend, a miracle. Someone who sees your pain and says, “I’ve got you. Let me take it from here.” I think I internalised that without even realising it. That someone or something would save me. That eventually, the chaos would stop. The shame would lift. The noise would quiet. That I’d wake up and somehow everything would be okay, because something outside of me would make it so. But here’s the hard truth that’s been crashing down on me lately: No one is coming to save me. And wow… I’m exhausted. Not just tired— exhausted . Bone-deep. Soul-deep. From carrying too much for too long. From pretending. From performing. From constantly trying to hold it all together while feeling like I’m falling apart on the inside. And if I’m completely honest, I don’t even like who I became somewhere along the way. I lost parts of myself I used to b...

I’ve got my square squad . The people who know me—really know me. They see my heart, they see my effort, they see the messy, raw, real me, and they hold space for it all. Their voices are the ones I trust, the ones I go to when the world gets loud. And yet, this week… someone outside that circle said something cruel. Something untrue. And it got to me. I found myself spiralling—defending, justifying, doubting. Then I caught myself trying to apply logic: “She’s not in your square squad. Her opinion doesn’t matter. Don’t let it in.” But here’s the hard truth: It still hurt. Because no matter how strong our boundaries are, or how clear we are on who matters and who doesn’t, we’re human. And words—especially unkind, false ones—can sting, even when we know the source is irrelevant. This is where the work lives. Not in pretending we’re untouchable. But in acknowledging the sting, sitting with it, and choosing not to let it define us. I reminded myself of three things today: Just b...

  Understanding the Impact of Emotional Abuse We often associate the word “abuse” with what we can see — bruises, scars, broken bones. Things that show. Things that can be explained. But what about the wounds no one sees? What about the damage caused by words that cut deeper than a slap ever could? By silence that screams louder than any raised voice? This is emotional abuse. And for so many of us, it goes unnoticed — even by the person living through it. “It’s not that bad…” — Except it is Emotional abuse is sneaky. It doesn’t always shout. Sometimes, it whispers just loud enough to make you question your own voice. It might look like: Constant criticism disguised as “jokes” Being blamed for everything that goes wrong Feeling like you’re walking on eggshells Being ignored or given the silent treatment Being made to feel like you’re “too sensitive” or “overreacting” And the worst part? It builds slowly. So slowly that by the time you realise something’s wrong, you’...

  How often do we break promises to ourselves while keeping every commitment we make to others? We say we’ll wake up early, exercise, eat better, or finally start that passion project—yet when life gets busy, those personal commitments are the first to go. I know this because I’ve been struggling with it myself. Lately, I’ve been realising how much it matters. Every time I let myself down, I chip away at my self-trust. I send the message that my own needs and goals don’t matter as much as other people’s. And that’s a pattern I want to change. Why It Matters When we follow through on promises to ourselves—whether small, like drinking more water, or big, like setting boundaries—we prove that we are reliable and worthy of respect. It’s like building a relationship. If someone constantly let you down, you’d stop trusting them, right? The same applies to the relationship I have with myself. Right now, I’m working on rebuilding that trust, one step at a time. The Struggle to Follow T...

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wrestled with this deep, aching need to feel acknowledged. It’s not just about being noticed—it’s about feeling like I matter, like I’m enough. And honestly? This need has shaped so much of who I am. Even now, it’s something I fight with almost every single day. When I was younger, excelling at school became my way of standing out. Top marks, shiny trophies, and glowing feedback—that was my language. That was how I screamed, “Look at me! I’m here. I’m worthy!” And yes, in those fleeting moments, it felt good. But the high never lasted. Before I knew it, the emptiness was back, and I was already chasing the next award, the next moment of recognition. The Exhaustion of Proving Myself I won’t lie—chasing validation is exhausting. It’s like being on a treadmill that never, ever stops. You keep running, hoping that maybe this time, the applause will last. Maybe this time, someone’s words of praise will finally make you feel complete. But it never does. It...

Let’s be real—imposter syndrome is a tricky one. It sneaks in when you’re trying to do something amazing and whispers in your ear, “You don’t belong here,” or worse, “You’re going to mess it up.” Sound familiar? It’s something I’ve had to deal with many times, and for the longest time, I let it get the better of me. But over the years, I’ve found a few ways to calm my mind and remind myself that I am enough, just as I am. If this resonates with you, keep reading. Let’s chat about what’s helped me silence that self-doubt. Step 1: Acknowledge the Noise The first thing I’ve learnt is that trying to fight imposter syndrome is like arguing with a toddler—it only makes things worse. Instead, I’ve started acknowledging those thoughts for what they are: just thoughts. They don’t have any power unless I give them power. When that inner critic pipes up, I literally say to myself, “Okay, I hear you, but you’re not in charge.” It sounds silly, I know, but it works. Step 2: Reconnect with My Why Wh...

  When was the last time you allowed yourself to truly be vulnerable? Not the "oops, I forgot to mute myself on Zoom" kind of vulnerable, but the deep, soul-revealing type. The moment when you admit, either to yourself or someone else, that you don’t have everything perfectly together. Let’s face it: vulnerability has a bad reputation. We’re conditioned to see it as weakness. Society encourages us to "stay strong," "keep it together," and "never let them see you sweat." But here’s the truth—real strength lies not in pretending to be invincible, but in embracing your imperfections and recognising your inherent worth, even when life gets messy. The Myth of Perfection For many of us, perfection has long been presented as the ultimate goal. Whether it was achieving top marks in school, being the perfect friend or sibling, or following life’s script to the letter, the message was always clear: don’t make mistakes, and if you do, make sure no one find...

  Yesterday, the skies wore a shroud, A veil of sorrow, heavy and proud. Loneliness hummed, soft yet near, Its echo lingered, sharp and clear. But today, sunlight weaves its way, Through broken shadows of yesterday. Peace whispers where pain had been, A quiet bloom that grows within. Each tear that fell became a seed, Pain nurturing beauty’s creed. Now I breathe, with calm inside, Grateful for the ebbing tide. Life unfolds like the ocean's sway, Grief and joy carving its way. Yesterday's shadows softly wane, Leaving the lessons, keeping the gain.