don’t let this just be another thing you save and never use. you didn’t land on this page to collect more feel-good fluff. you’re here because something in you is done pretending you’re fine when you’re not. done playing small. done avoiding the real work.
you’re not gonna scroll past your own healing. you’re gonna sit with these questions. feel them. let them crack something open. let them breathe life into the parts of you you’ve been ignoring, hiding, or calling “too much.”
no more just reading your way through your pain. you’re here to face it. because you’re done performing healing and ready to actually do it. so grab your journal. grab your truth. and for once, don’t rush the process.
-kayla🤍
<aside> 🪞
chapter one | the first cut
</aside>
what story did your younger self start telling herself about love?
maybe it was “if i’m good enough, they’ll stay.” or “love always hurts, but at least it’s something.” truth is, little you probably built that story from scraps… watching adults settle, beg, break, or leave. but you’re not her anymore. so why are you still living by rules she wrote in survival mode?
how have you been trying to prove you're worthy instead of just being it?
are you overachieving? people-pleasing? constantly explaining yourself, hoping someone finally “gets it”? worth doesn’t live in hustle. it’s not hiding in your to-do list, your weight, your relationship status, or how much you give to everyone else. being worthy isn’t something you earn… it’s something you remember. so why are you still on stage?
who do you keep bleeding for, hoping they'll finally see you?
maybe it’s your mom. your ex. your dad. your friend who only calls when shit hits the fan. you keep showing up, overextending, playing the “understanding one”— because you think if you just love them hard enough, they’ll wake up. but babe… if bleeding for them hasn’t made them see your worth by now, maybe it’s time you stop calling it love and start calling it self-abandonment.
what pain are you still managing for someone who never apologized?
you ever notice how you’re still carrying the weight of their decisions? their silence. their betrayal. their shame that got dumped onto you like it was yours to clean up. and here you are, years later, still doing the emotional labor while they sleep just fine at night. it’s not fair, and it never was. but you don’t need their apology to put it down. closure isn’t always a conversation. sometimes it’s just a decision.