Tag: family

Feelings & Fire, Reflection

The Stories We Carry (And Rewrite)

Mindrah

This week I want to talk to you about stories.
Stories we tell ourselves.
And stories other people tell about us.

You see, my family tells a lot of stories about me.
They say I’m fat, and therefore I must be unfit.
They say I never exercise, which reinforces their belief that I don’t care about my health.
They say I never go outside.
They say I don’t care about them.

I don’t share this for sympathy. I share it because it bothers me and because deep down, I know it’s not true.
And yet, hearing the same story enough times can start to plant roots. You begin to wonder: What if they’re right?

But here’s the reality:
I’ve lost over 40kg.
I did that by waking up before dawn, walking most days, and showing up for myself even when it was hard.
I walk outside. I leave the house five days a week for work.
I studied full-time while working full-time because I care deeply about building a better future.
And even when exhausted, I still showed up for my family. I called. I checked in. I listened. I made time.

Imagine if I had listened to their version of my story.
Imagine if I believed them.
Worse, imagine if I started telling myself those same things.

If I had, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be healthier, stronger, halfway through a Master’s degree, or learning how to rebuild when life suddenly veers off course.

This morning, everything feels a bit broken. My plans have unraveled. My path feels uncertain.
But instead of saying, “I can’t do this,” I’ve been drafting a new game plan.
A new story.

And now I’m wondering about you.

What stories are being told about you, by others, or by yourself, that need to be rewritten?
What falsehoods have been repeated so often they started to feel like truth?

Because me? I think you’ve got this.
You’re still becoming.
You’re still growing.

Remember the power of yet.
And write yourself a story worth living in.

Feelings & Fire

A Birthday, A Beginning

Mindrah

I did it.
I celebrated my birthday.
My way.
With intention the whole day through.

Was it perfect?
No.
But it was mine and I chose it.

And when things didn’t go to plan.
I stopped.
I took a breath.
And I asked myself.
How do I want to go forward from here.
I chose on purpose.

This year my birthday didn’t just happen.
And it didn’t pass in a blink of disappointment.

Birthdays can be hard.
For some of us, they come tangled — with grief, hope, reflection, and a strange aching sense that time is both too slow and too fast.

This year I wanted to do my birthday differently. Not with pressure. Not with guilt. But with softness. With understanding. With kindness.

There’s often a strange kind of weight to celebrating yourself. Especially when the world teaches you to earn your milestones, or when old griefs sit close to the surface.

I didn’t want to pretend everything was easy. But I didn’t want to hide from the day either.

I wanted to choose me. I wanted to celebrate my way, for me and not for anyone else.

So, instead of a party, I built myself a small safe space — a blanket fort, a soft playlist, a simple reflection page.
I gave myself permission to exist exactly as I was: messy, hopeful, tired, alive.

I let small joys rule my day — setting out experiences that made my heart lighter.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t magic. But it mattered.

I realized celebration doesn’t always have to look like a fancy dinner, a party or cake.

Sometimes it looks like breathing.

Sometimes it looks like making room for yourself even when it feels awkward.

If you’re carrying complicated feelings about your birthday — or about any day you’re supposed to “celebrate” —you’re not alone.

There’s no wrong way to honor yourself.

Even a small, quiet beginning is still a beginning.

You’re still worth celebrating — exactly as you are.

One small corner of my celebration — a moment chosen just for me.

If you’re looking for a way to celebrate yourself — quietly, kindly — you can find my Birthday Reflection Pack here.

Feelings & Fire, Printable Packs, Reflection

Soft & Sacred: A Gentle Birthday Ritual

Mindrah

“It’s my birthday soon.”
For some, that thought might bring happiness and excitement.
For others — dread.
For me, it brings sadness and loss.

Celebrating my birthday used to be the one thing I fought for — for myself.
It was more than just a celebration of birth.
It was a sacred ritual.
A change of scenery. A chance to breathe.
A day to do something that brought me joy.

But like many things in life, the energy it took to fight — again and again —
and the tiny cracks formed by unmet hopes
eventually wore me down.
We stopped celebrating the way I wanted.
And my birthday became just another day.

And I survived.
For years.

But this year… I woke up.

And when the thought came —
“It’s my birthday soon.”

I decided:
I would celebrate it my way.
Not how I used to.
But in a way that honours who I am now.

So I asked myself — how?

For the first time in years, I don’t have to work on my birthday.
So I thought — why not make a whole day of it?

And as I began to plan, I thought of all the other people in the world
for whom birthdays are difficult.
People who maybe want to celebrate, but don’t know how.
For whom birthdays have become about surviving — or just cake.
But who want more.

I thought of those who want to honour their day
in a gentle, meaningful way.
Of those who want to remember.
To plan. To be intentional.

And so, I made a book.

It’s not a party planner.
It’s a soft space.
A ritual.
A gentle celebration of surviving, of being.
A tool for holding space.

It honours all that I’ve lived through to stand here.
It honours who I am today.
And it looks — with hope — toward who I might yet become.

It looks at the growth, the struggle, the pain and says:
“I see you.”

Maybe in a whisper.
Maybe in a shout.
Maybe alone, in the quiet of my heart.
Maybe among my people.

Either way —
everyone deserves to celebrate in a way that honours them.

That’s why I created space for quiet reflection.
For joyful creation.
For comfort and nurturing.
And a structure that lets me choose.
To design my day in a way that feels right.

And for the first time in years,
I feel excited to celebrate the day of my birth.

With love.
With intention.
In a way that finally,
holds space for me.

So what’s inside the pack?

It’s not a list of party games or decorations.
It’s a collection of printable pages designed to guide you through a full day of gentle self-celebration — or to be used slowly across a week, a month, or whenever you need a reminder that your life is worth honouring.

Some pages are quiet.
Some are playful.
Some are reflective.
Some might stir emotions.
And all of them are built to hold space for you — your feelings, your energy, your rhythms.

There are spaces to:

  • Reflect on the past year — the good, the hard, the quietly powerful moments
  • Honour who you are right now, and how you’ve changed
  • Design a celebration that fits your energy (blanket fort optional, but encouraged)
  • Create your own birthday soundtrack and comfort rituals
  • Write a letter to yourself
  • Choose joy in whatever form it takes — drawing, walking, cake, silence, sparkle
  • And even gently dream about the year ahead

There’s no right way to use this book.
You don’t have to fill every page.
You don’t have to finish it all in one day.
You don’t even have to feel excited to begin.

You just have to show up.
Softly. Gently. Honestly.

Because your birthday — and your life — are worth marking in a way that feels true to you.

And if you don’t know how to begin?
That’s okay too.
I made this so we could begin together.

You can find it on Etsy here.