Dare to Heal

Dear Not So Secret Diary,

For the past three months, I’ve been consistent, committed, and communicative (living my personal mantra out loud). I could feel my dreams getting closer, my vision sharpening, and my momentum building. And then… I stopped. At first, the pause felt intentional and necessary. I needed to reevaluate my time, my energy, my focus. I realized I don't just hold one title but three. I was juggling the titles Mommy, Capree, and CEO. Instead of learning how to hold all three with care, I had been gripping two tightly and letting the third fall. I was showing up fully as Mommy and CEO, but quietly neglecting myself. So I made a decision: instead of dropping a ball, I would learn how to toss it into the air; trusting that I could keep all three in motion with intention.

The first week of this pause felt hopeful. I was learning how to pay attention not just to my hands, but to the balls themselves; to the actual needs of each part of me. Consistency came from rhythm, and accuracy came from focus. I began noticing where my energy was truly going, instead of where I thought it was going. But the following week revealed the real lesson. Without intention, my hands drifted back into old movements. I found myself repeating familiar patterns, not because they worked, but because they were automatic. Healing required me to be present enough to notice when my rhythm was off and brave enough to adjust instead of reverting.

Adjusting has been the hardest part. Letting go of old habits hasn’t felt brave. It’s felt uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Some days I catch myself slipping back without even realizing it, and other days I’m painfully aware of every small misstep. Learning new ways of showing up for myself has felt like starting over more times than I can count. I can’t hold everything at once, and I’m learning that I don’t have to. I’ve been practicing one small shift at a time, giving each part of me a little more care than I used to. Some days all three parts feel balanced, and other days one still falls behind. But I’m noticing it sooner now. I’m adjusting with more compassion. And I’m staying: even when it’s messy.

And slowly, I’m starting to feel the blessing of this work. When I pause and look back, I can see how much progress I’ve made (how much more present I am for each part of myself). I’m finding joy in the little victories: successfully balancing my needs, my work, and my family, even for just a moment. Those moments feel like quiet celebrations, proof that I can keep all three balls in motion without losing myself. Healing has brought clarity, lightness, and a steadiness I didn’t know I could hold. By showing up with intention, even imperfectly, I create space not just for peace, but for real joy, growth, and fulfillment. Choosing myself isn’t selfish: it’s how I thrive, and how I can fully show up for everything I love.

Healing is a brave, quiet act, and each day I’m learning what it truly means to dare to heal. Some days the balance feels natural, and other days it wobbles. That’s okay. What matters is that I keep showing up, keep adjusting, and keep choosing myself. To dare to heal is to give yourself permission to rest, to start over, and to celebrate even the smallest victories. If you’re reading this, I hope you give yourself that same courage. Your healing is worth the pauses, the restarts, and the intentional steps along the way. And if you want a gentle space to feel seen, supported, and encouraged on your journey, I invite you to join the Capreeable community and newsletter; where we can dare to heal together, one mindful step at a time.

Love Always,

Capree'