I Fell Right Back into Survival Mode

Self-growth is not always moving forward.

If you’ve been along for the ride with me since the early days of Skirts Up, you know my baseline didn’t used to look like this.

For years, I lived from a place of total, complete loss of identity. I had lost my worth, my self-love, and my grip on who I actually was. I felt broken—deep down in my bones broken—and I truly believed it.

That brokenness bled into every single corner of my reality. It dictated how I showed up in my marriage. It changed how I parented. It distorted how I interacted with the world. My brain had constructed a permanent blueprint that said: Everyone and everything is out to get you. They are going to hurt you. They are going to take from you.

Even when my life looked completely “perfect” on the outside, I was living behind a thick, defensive wall, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It wasn't until I finally got curious about why I felt so unsafe all the time that the walls began to crack open. Over the last year, I learned what a truly rich life feels like.

And by rich, I don’t mean money in the bank. I mean the pure, unfiltered joy of living authentically without carrying the suffocating fear of what other people think.

I’m talking about literally stopping to smell the rain falling over the pine trees. I’m talking about looking at a magnificent tree, smiling at it like it’s an actual human being, walking over to touch its bark like I’m shaking its hand, and saying out loud, "Thanks for being here today, you made me smile." (Yes, I am officially that person, and I love her.)

It looked like slowing life down completely with my youngest—embracing the absolute disaster of baking together, jumping in muddy puddles, and sitting on the porch counting how many different birds we could hear. It looked like letting myself try pottery—even if I’ve only done it once so far!—and exploring spirituality without worrying about showing up "imperfect."

I was living in the beauty of self-discovery. I loved my life.

And then... I got knocked right back down.

If I’m being completely honest with you, I drifted back into that old, heavy place in what felt like a blink of an eye. Looking back, it felt like it happened overnight—but it didn't.

It started quietly.

It started the night I told myself, "I'm just too tired to journal tonight," and then simply never picked the pen back up.

It happened when I decided I "didn't have time" for my morning and bedtime stretches.

It happened when I convinced myself that taking a lunchtime walk outside wasn't "productive" because I needed to grind and focus on growing the business instead.

It happened when sharing my feelings and daily struggles with my husband, Simon, started feeling less important than the mountain of other things we had to worry about—when choosing silence felt easier than being vulnerable.

Before I even noticed it happening, the exhaustion crept back in. The survival loops quietly reclaimed the driver's seat.

Here is why I’m telling you this: Because going backward is normal.

We have this toxic belief in the wellness world that once you "heal," you stay on this permanent, glowing pedestal where you hug trees and drink tea in perfect peace forever. But life happens. We get tired. We slip into old safety patterns when stress ramps up.

If you’ve found yourself back in the fog this week—if you realized you stopped doing the small things that bring you back to yourself—I want you to hear me:

You are not starting over. You are just freshening up.

The small, gentle steps back to loving your life are sitting right there, waiting for you whenever you’re ready. You don't have to overhaul your whole world today. You just have to pick one tiny thing that brings a little air back into your lungs.

I’m taking those small steps back to myself starting today.

Who wants to take them with me?