For the woman who's holding it all together

I always try to write with intention, based on the learnings that I am experiencing each week, and this week, it's about goodbyes:

🖤 I hugged my poppy as the screen door slammed goodbye on Monday

🖤 drank 8 cups of tea with friends and my aunties on Tuesday

🖤 then cried my way through 'see you soons', bear hugs, and baby kisses on Wednesday

Then I drove out the driveway.

The road stretches forward again, and with it, another goodbye.

There’s something sacred in the leaving. In the in-between. In the breath before what’s next.

This journal entry came through as I sat with that tender space this morning— the kind that asks us to feel more, not less.

The kind that reminds us that being a woman isn’t about doing it all — it’s about letting it all move through.

 #380

 24th April 2025

Left home again yesterday.

Woke up with a tight ball of grief and anxiety in my chest at the thought of saying goodbye, at the thought of final hugs and kisses, at the thought of words unsaid and tears not shed.

Thank God for my scheduled call to my coach Erica at 6am, for her leading me through the somatic release I desperately needed but was avoiding.

I was reminded that there's more strength in vulnerability than there is in rigidity. The willow tree that bends in the breeze and moves in time to the demands of nature is the most infallible.

There is no competition between it and the old man gum tree who stands strong and tall, but drops a limb in defiance of change every time the wind whistles through it, not even realising in its stoicism that it is losing a part of itself each time.

From here on out, I recall all the pieces of my soul, my heart and my light body that have been left in the ungrateful care of those I have loved and lost over time, the places that I have outgrown, and the timelines of a life I thought I wanted but no longer fit me.

These pieces are no longer theirs, they are mine and I will reshape them and soften their edges so that they fall back into my open spaces, my emptiness and the echoes in my soul.

I relinquish all desires to mould myself around others and instead mould myself around the now:

The demands of this moment shape my future and I want to pay my fullest attention to them, to see the dazzling lights splay themselves along leaves and window panes and waves, to recalibrate my soul to the beauty of this moment so that my cells sigh in relief and let go of all anticipation of all the might-be's, could-be's and should-be's, to exist in this most important moment is divine.

It is chaos and consummation and conscription to myself and a life lived so fully that it aches with joy and gratitude and it whispers softly in the sensitive places of my psyche. Goosebumps forming on sacred flesh and an irretrievable shiver inching its way upward, ever upward towards the inevitable: Pleasure is my birthright and my reclamation.

I am a woman.

I deserve to be here.

I deserve to enjoy this moment.

I deserve to let all else go.

---

If something in these words stirred a place in you —a longing to feel more deeply, to soften into your days,to move from pleasure instead of pressure —

I’d love to hold space for that with you.

Next week, I have a few openings for 1:1 consults. 

These aren’t sales calls. 

They’re an invitation back to yourself.

To explore what it could look like to feel held, fulfilled, and free —without the hustle, without the guilt.

Click here to book if your body whispers yes.

In the stillness where the willows speak,

Haley 🤍