She used to laugh louder.
She used to rest without guilt.
She used to move through the world with a little more ease — a little more magic.

And then… life happened.

The expectations.
The caregiving.
The giving.
The forgetting.

The woman you once were didn’t leave — she simply got lost under everything you’ve had to carry.

But here’s the sacred truth:
You can come back to her.
You can remember your name.
You can take your joy off the shelf.
You can soften and stretch and rebuild — not to become someone new, but to return to who you always were.

You Are Not Just What You Do

You are not just someone’s partner, parent, employee, helper, volunteer, or go-to.
Those roles are part of your story — but they are not your whole name.

You are allowed to be a woman with needs.
With dreams.
With boundaries.
With joy that isn’t always “productive.”

You were a person before you were a provider.
And you still are.

Your Wholeness Is Not Selfish

We’ve been taught to believe that taking time for ourselves is indulgent.
That rest must be earned.
That joy must be justified.

But the truth is, a nourished woman becomes a nourishing force.

You are better for others when you are not empty.
You are stronger when you are soft with yourself.
You are more grounded when you allow yourself to be human.

Taking care of you is not a luxury.
It’s the foundation

You Can Start Small

You don’t have to book a solo retreat or take a month off.
Sometimes reclaiming yourself looks like:

• Saying “no” without explaining yourself.

• Going for a 10-minute walk with no phone.

• Lighting a candle just because it smells like peace.

• Writing your name in your journal and asking, “How are you, really?”

Small steps still move you forward.
Wholeness is built one honest moment at a time.

Who You Were Was Never Lost — Just Hidden

That sparkle in your eyes?
That softness in your laughter?
That deep, fierce knowing?

It’s still there.

Beneath the burnout.
Beneath the pressure.
Beneath the life that has asked too much and given too little in return.

You don’t need to become someone else.
You need to come home to who you are — the woman already named “enough.”