It took me years to realize that the peace I craved wasn’t something I had to search for—it was something I already knew how to create.
From the time I was a little girl, I felt safest and most content in the confines of my own carefully crafted space, surrounded by the warm and loving energy I created for myself. I’d spend hours in my tiny bedroom, reading entire Babysitter’s Little Sister books in one sitting, writing songs and poems, lining up my dolls and teddy bears in rows, and teaching them everything I’d learned at school that week.
The quiet stillness of a room filled with my favorite things—tea sets, books, spiral notepads and colorful pencils, cozy blankets handmade by my Granny—these weren’t moments I ran from, they were where I felt most safe.
And decades later, not much has changed! The only difference now is that my solitude isn’t just comforting, it’s sacred.
I’m writing this from my cozy Japanese apartment, sipping Earl Grey with those same familiar comfort objects nearby, fully embracing what may be my last stretch of deep solitude for a long while.
My husband is in the Navy, completing his final tour at sea before we move back to San Diego and begin a new chapter together. For years, the idea of deployments and living alone was terrifying. I’d pretend it wasn’t my reality just to get through the days, but time moved forward anyway. As each one brought me closer to goodbye, I’d feel the anxiety rush through my mind and ripple down my body like a wave crashing into my nervous system. I can’t be alone! My life is on pause until he returns! What am I going to do with myself while he’s away?
But when the time came last year, I was struck with a new thought. It came in the form of a simple question, and it completely catapulted my healing, helping me to come home to the happiest, most authentic version of myself.
Is this how I really feel? Or is this what I thought I was supposed to feel?
Was my anxiety just a natural stress response? Or was some of it signaling that my thoughts and words weren’t actually aligned with my truth?
The answer was: probably a little bit of both. And I’ve learned to let those two truths exist side by side, without judgment. I can miss my partner deeply and still cherish the quiet. I can also thrive even when he is not physically present.
(A beautiful and freeing revelation for anyone raised in a codependent household, right?!)
I don’t need someone else’s presence to feel whole or stable. My life doesn’t pause until he returns. In fact, like many empaths, I come alive in quiet moments. It’s where my creativity blooms, where my nervous system finally exhales. And I enjoy it very, very much.
This was one of the first revelations I had regarding the enmeshed belief system that was still ingrained in my thoughts, but no longer resonated; however, it was far from the last. Realizing the valuable tool provided by that one simple question, I was able to completely rewire my thought processes to acknowledge my own inner compass. I hope that by passing it along, it can have the same impact on you.
As people-pleasers, we’re trained to prioritize what we should feel over what we actually feel. We mimic emotions to fit the mold, we mirror the energy of the room, and we override our inner voice in favor of keeping the peace.
But healing begins when we pause long enough to ask:
Is this mine? Or is this something I learned to feel so I’d be accepted?
It’s such a simple question, but one that changed everything for me. When I began to notice how often I betrayed my own truth in favor of comfort, agreement, or conformity, I realized just how far I’d strayed from myself.
Here’s what that looked like in real life:
Making suggestions I knew others would like when asked what I wanted
Nodding in agreement even when I didn’t actually agree
Feeling emotions that didn’t match the moment, just because I thought I should
Impulsively saying what I thought people wanted to hear instead of pausing and checking in with my truth
No wonder it felt hard to know what I believed. I’d spent years overriding my own intuition, and then I wondered why I didn’t feel at home in my body-or why my mind felt like a stranger.
The more I ask what’s real for me, the more I come home to that quiet inner room—the one filled with soft blankets, spiral notebooks, and a peace that was always mine to begin with.
Want to start listening to yourself again?
Here are three gentle ways to reconnect with what’s true for you:
Pause before you answer.
The next time someone asks your opinion, take a breath and ask yourself, What do I honestly want? You don’t have to say it out loud yet—just start by noticing.Name your real feeling.
When you're overwhelmed or unsettled, ask: Is this mine? Or did I pick it up because I thought I was supposed to? Free journal what comes up! As we discussed in the video portion, our subconscious often holds the answers that our overthinking minds tend to miss.Do something just for you.
Light a candle. Make tea. Sit in silence. Color. Write something just for you. Read something just for fun. Take a long bath. Cancel your cell phone plan. Run away to the mountains and live with the forest fairies, never to return again. You get the picture. (Insert millennial “LOL”)
If no one’s ever told you:
It’s okay to feel differently from what others expect.
It’s safe to want what you want.
You’ve spent so long reading the room that it’s only fair you get to read your own energy now.
You’re allowed to take up space with your own feelings, your own preferences, your own quiet joy.
You don’t have to justify it or explain yourself.
I know it can feel hard at first, but I promise it gets easier with practice. And I’m here to hold your hand and encourage you along the way! We’ve got this!
All my love,
Lauren
PS- If you’re interested in grabbing your own copy of this deck (or any other of my personal faves), you can find it here!
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