The holidays have a way of bringing everything to the surface—joy, grief, longing, and exhaustion. Even when surrounded by people, many find themselves feeling emotionally distant or disconnected. The holiday blues aren’t a sign of failure or ingratitude; they’re often a reflection of unmet needs, old wounds, and the pressure to show up in ways that don’t always feel authentic.

Silence in a relationship can look like peace from the outside, but narrative therapy teaches us to hear the deeper story beneath it. This post explores the journey of the burnt-out pursuer—the partner who once reached for closeness but is now too exhausted to keep trying. If you recognize yourself in this quiet turning point, you’re not alone, and support is within reach.

Every relationship has a story, but sometimes conflict begins writing its own script—one partners never intended. This blog explores the pursue–withdraw cycle through a narrative therapy lens and shows how couples can step out of old roles and into new possibilities for connection. If you’re ready to change the way your relationship handles conflict, this is the perfect place to begin.

From a somatic and emotionally focused perspective, healing doesn’t begin by trying to “fix” what feels wrong. It begins with slowing down, noticing, and listening. Mindful awareness invites us to approach the body with curiosity instead of judgment. For example, rather than saying, “I shouldn’t feel this way,” we learn to gently ask, “What is my body telling me right now?” Or, as I often ask in session: “What’s coming up for you, and where in your body do you feel it?”

There comes a moment—quiet, almost imperceptible—when your body realizes it’s no longer in danger. But instead of relief, you feel disoriented. What does life look like when survival is no longer the story you have to live by? In this piece, I explore the tender, confusing, and beautiful transition from survival mode to safety, and how narrative therapy can help you rewrite what it means to feel truly at home in your body and your life.

We all carry fragments of what’s come before. This reflection honors the memories we hold—those that hurt and those that heal—and explores how storytelling turns pain into purpose. It’s a gentle reminder that remembrance can be a path to freedom, not just weight.

What if nurturing yourself could rewrite your beginnings? This piece explores reparenting as sacred repair—learning to hold yourself with the same compassion you once needed. It’s a reflection on mothering from within and creating the safety that births freedom.