Tag: writing

From Writing to Healing: The Art of Emotional Expression

by Mothersense, posted in Uncategorized

I shared with you guys that I had been using writing as a creative outlet. I also stress bake and cook as a way to cope. It has been a roller coaster around here the past year so I have experimented with writing songs, poetry, new recipes, just about any way that you could imagine to creatively deal with all of the changes.

Here is a sneak peek at a song I wrote about the complicated relationships with sisters:

🎶 Sister Things

(Original song about the fierce, complex bond between sisters)

[Verse 1]
 We’ve shared shoes, secrets, silence, and screams
Traded dreams, and jeans, and in-between things
Laughed ‘til we cried, cried ‘til we laughed
Drew battle lines, then erased the past
You knew the boy before he broke my heart
I knew your tells before you fell apart

[Pre-Chorus]
 We don’t say sorry — not out loud
But we show up when it really counts

[Chorus]
 It’s a sister thing, it don’t always make sense
Like throwing shade but leaping to defense
We can fight like hell behind closed doors
But God help the fool who says one word more
You get me like no one ever could
And still hurt me worse than anyone would
But there’s grace in the grit, love in the sting
That’s just how we do… sister things

[Verse 2]
 I’ve rolled my eyes at the life you chose
You’ve judged my pain like it’s a TV show
But deep down we’re tied at the soul’s seam
Different stars in the same wild dream
You’ve been my mirror, my rival, my home
The first to call, the last to condone

[Pre-Chorus]
 We’ve got bruises that no one sees
But girl, your wins still feel like wins to me

[Chorus]
 It’s a sister thing — part fire, part gold
A little too much, a little too bold
We’ll talk behind each other’s backs
Then come out swingin’ if someone attacks
You keep my ugly, you’ve seen me weak
Still call me strong when I can’t speak
Yeah, it cuts and it heals — that’s the swing
Of this wild and holy… sister thing

[Bridge]
 And not all sisters are born the same
Some show up later, without the name
They pick you up, they pull you through
They know the mess, but love you true
So here’s to the soul-tied, battle-scarred few
Who love like sisters… and show up like glue

[Final Chorus]
 It’s a sister thing — it’s sacred, it’s loud
Full of silent vows we never said out loud
You can tear me down, but build me up too
‘Cause no one else sees the whole damn truth
From the sandbox fights to wedding rings
We’ve weathered it all… sister things
Not just blood, but heart and flame
And I’d choose you over and over again

[Outro]
 Yeah, it’s raw, it’s real, it’s a lifelong sting
But thank God for this beautiful…
Sister thing

And then I wrote about people, the kind of people who will smile to your face and do hurtful things behind your back. I really have enjoyed writing and creating. I might someday get the chance to perform these songs somewhere or maybe find an artist that appreciates the sentiment and wants to record them. Who knows? But for now, for now I will share them with you guys and hope you enjoy!!

🎶 “Smiling Snake”

(Original song – sassy, upbeat, and too real)

[Verse 1]
 Oh, she’s got a hug that’s sugar-sweet
But her eyes say she’s sizing up the meat
Brings a pie to your potluck dream
While she’s stirring doubt in her own scheme
Knows your birthday, knows your fears
Knows just how to play those gears
Laughs with you, then walks away
To twist your truth another way

[Pre-Chorus]
 Yeah, she claps when you rise — slow and tight
Then whispers why you’ll fall by Friday night

[Chorus]
 She’s got a Sunday smile and a serpent’s soul
Wears kindness like a high-heeled role
Says “I’m just worried” with a perfect pitch
But she’s rooting for a breakdown, not a switch
She don’t hiss — no, she sweet-talks fate
Pulls you close just to watch you break
Oh, bless her heart — that girl is fake
She ain’t a friend, she’s a smiling snake

[Verse 2]
 She’ll comment “love this!” on your post
Then share it in a group chat roast
Says “I’m so proud” to your face
Then prays you trip on your own grace
But baby, I’ve been watchin’ too
And now I know what snakeskins do
She’s just a mirror with no soul
Reflectin’ shadows, never whole

[Pre-Chorus]
 So go on, girl, keep up the charm
I’ve built a fence around this heart

[Chorus]
 Yeah, she’s got a halo that’s glued on tight
Winks in public, claws at night
Says “we go way back” with a champagne grin
But she’s counting your cracks while she sips her sin
She don’t bite — nah, she whispers fate
Sews her lies like they’re first-rate
Oh, bless her heart — that smile’s so fake
She ain’t a friend, she’s a smiling snake

[Bridge]
 Now I ain’t bitter, just awake
Learned how to spot a polished fake
Not every grin means love or peace
Some just want a front row seat…

[Breakdown – Spoken or Half-Sung]
 To your fall — or your rise
But either way, she’ll act surprised

[Final Chorus]
 So raise a glass to the girls who know
That sisterhood ain’t just for show
We’ve seen the venom dressed in pearls
The side-eyes hidden in “you go, girl!”
But we’ve learned to smile, and walk on by
With sharper hearts and clearer eyes
No more fools for the games they play
We see ’em now — from a mile away

[Outro – Tagline Hook]
 Oh bless her heart…
She’s just a smiling snake.

Healing Through Creation: The Power of a Creative Outlet

by Mothersense, posted in Uncategorized

There’s something magical that happens when we put our pain, joy, confusion, or hope into words, images, or melodies. Lately, I’ve been writing songs, poetry, short stories, and sharing pieces of my journey here on this blog. Each piece—whether it flows easily or arrives stubborn and raw—has been a small but powerful step forward in my healing.

Creating isn’t just about making something beautiful or polished. Sometimes it’s messy. Sometimes it’s just about getting through the day, giving shape to a feeling that doesn’t have a name yet. But over time, I’ve come to see that this act of expressing—of making—has been one of the most effective tools in my emotional toolbox.

Why Creative Outlets Heal

When we go through pain, trauma, stress, or even just the overwhelming pressure of day-to-day life, it can feel like everything inside us is swirling out of control. Creative outlets give us a way to take back the narrative. They allow us to externalize what’s internal, and suddenly, what felt chaotic becomes a canvas we can look at, understand, and maybe even learn to appreciate.

Here’s what I’ve noticed about using creativity to heal:

  • It makes space for truth. There are things I didn’t even realize I needed to say until I wrote them down. That truth, however small, opens a door.
  • It reduces the pressure to “fix” everything. Healing doesn’t need to be linear. Sometimes it’s just about showing up and writing the next verse or paragraph.
  • It empowers me. Whether I’m writing a powerful lyric or a quiet line of poetry, it reminds me that I have a voice. That I’m not just surviving—I’m creating.

Balancing Healing and Hustling

Right now, I’m also deep in study mode, working toward earning my securities licenses. It’s a grind. It’s mentally exhausting. But even in that structured, analytical world, I find moments where creativity sneaks in—whether it’s the way I reframe a financial concept to help it stick, or the way I motivate myself with a lyric I wrote last week. Studying for these exams is part of my future, but writing keeps me present.

It’s strange but comforting how these two seemingly opposite parts of my life—rigid test prep and freeform writing—are actually balancing each other out. One grounds me, the other sets me free.

How’s Your Healing Journey Going?

If you’re reading this, maybe you’re on a healing path of your own. Maybe you’re creating something, or maybe you haven’t yet, but the idea is tugging at you. I encourage you to try. You don’t have to show anyone. You don’t have to be good at it. You just have to let it be real.

So how’s your healing journey going? What helps you feel a little more whole?

Leave a comment or just reflect quietly—but know that your story matters. And maybe, just maybe, your next step forward begins with a blank page.

Until next time,
Keep creating. Keep healing. Keep going.

✨🖊️🎶

Life Transitions: Finding Peace Amidst Chaos

by Mothersense, posted in Uncategorized

MIA, But Not Gone

I know I’ve been MIA.

Sometimes, life demands that we step back—not just from work or social media—but from everything. I had to hit pause. I had to give myself permission to simply be.

Over the past few months, I’ve been dealing with some health issues that forced me to reassess my routines and my life in a real, deep way. It wasn’t as easy as just adding a new pill to my morning or nighttime regimen and calling it a day. These were foundational shifts. Things had to change—mentally, physically, emotionally.

I had to move more. I had to get better at managing my stress. And I don’t mean just more yoga, more meditation, or another breathing exercise. I mean truly facing some things I’ve carried for a long time. Things that made me feel angry, sad, and raw. Grief came back around—like it always does—and knocked the wind out of me when I least expected it.

So I’ve been sitting with my feelings. Letting them breathe. Giving them space instead of stuffing them down like I’ve done so many times before. I’ve had to re-center. To literally touch grass. I know it sounds cliché, but there was something healing about standing barefoot in the yard, letting the sun warm my skin and the earth hold me up.

All this while life keeps moving forward at full speed.

My youngest son is heading into his sophomore year of high school—talking about getting a job, becoming more independent, stepping into the world in new ways. And my oldest daughter… she’s getting married. Married. There’s so much to be proud of, so much to be pleased about—but also this deep ache. Because they’re not babies anymore.

They will always be my babies. But we’re not in that chapter anymore. And letting go of those earlier seasons, even while embracing the beauty of what’s now, has been its own kind of mourning.

It’s a strange, tender time. A phase of life where things are shifting—again. We’re growing. We’re changing. And while I know, deep down, that this next chapter is going to be beautiful—it’s also really messy. It’s hard. It’s uncertain. And sometimes it’s just plain exhausting.

But here’s what I do know: I’ve survived 100% of the days I thought would break me. And I’m still here. We’re still here. Finding our footing. Creating new routines. Learning how to breathe deeply again.

So if you’re in the thick of it too—whatever your “it” looks like—just know that you’re not alone. Healing isn’t linear. Growth isn’t neat. And the hard days don’t last forever.

We’re adjusting. And it’s going to be okay. Maybe even more than okay.

We’re making something beautiful.

Mess and all.

Making Lemons to Lemonade: Pausing to Heal

by Mothersense, posted in Uncategorized

When Life Gives You Lemons

Life has really been topsy-turvy over the last few years. Every single time I feel like I’ve got things together and they’re finally smoothing out—BAM! Something happens. Something shifts. The rug gets pulled out from under me and I’m left to figure out how to adapt all over again.

Sometimes it’s something small, like needing to start blood pressure medicine. Other times, it’s devastating, like the loss of a parent. Either way, it changes the way we move through life. I say “we,” but really, I mean me. These experiences shape how I think, how I react, and how I heal.

Over the past few years, I’ve gained and lost a lot—people, routines, habits, hopes. But right now, I want to focus on what I’ve gained. I need to. Because if I dwell too long on the losses, I risk sinking into a deep ocean of grief. So instead, I choose to lean into growth. I’m learning to be still. To listen. Not just to the noise around me, but to the quiet wisdom inside my body and my instincts.

When You Slip (And You Will), Here’s How to Get Back on Track

Let’s be honest—knowing what’s good for you doesn’t always mean you’ll do it. I have the knowledge. I know how to eat well, sleep better, stretch, breathe, reflect, reset. But in those moments when the world feels heavy and nothing makes sense, the old habits come back like they never left.

Maybe I skip meals or reach for all the wrong ones. I forget to drink water. I stay up too late scrolling. I miss my yoga. My meditation mat gathers dust. And then come the consequences: brain fog, body aches, mood swings, a constant feeling of being off.

Here’s what I’ve learned, though:

  • Start small. Don’t try to overhaul your life overnight. Pick one thing. Just one. Maybe it’s drinking a glass of water first thing in the morning. Maybe it’s five minutes of quiet breathing before bed. Just start.
  • Don’t punish yourself. Guilt is not a motivator; it’s an anchor. Instead of beating yourself up, offer yourself some grace. Say, “Okay, I missed today. Tomorrow is a fresh start.”
  • Set visual cues. Put your yoga mat where you can see it. Leave sticky notes with affirmations on your mirror. Set reminders in your phone to pause and breathe.
  • Talk about it. Whether with a friend, a therapist, or a journal—say it out loud. When you name the struggle, it loses some of its power.

How to Make Lemonade When Life Gives You Lemons

The truth is, life will give you lemons. Sometimes by the bucketload. But those lemons? They don’t have to rot. They can be squeezed into something meaningful, something new. Here’s how I’m learning to turn sour moments into sweet progress:

  • Shift the perspective. Instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?” try, “What is this trying to teach me?” Every challenge is an invitation to evolve.
  • Create something. Pain and frustration are powerful fuel for creativity. Write, paint, build, sing, garden—channel that energy somewhere healing.
  • Help someone else. When you’re struggling, reach out to someone else who is too. Kindness multiplies, and it gives your pain purpose.
  • Celebrate the smallest wins. Got out of bed today? Win. Drank water instead of soda? Win. Laughed, even once? That’s a huge win.

Final Thoughts

Life’s chaos won’t stop. There will always be something unexpected around the corner. But the way I meet those moments? That’s up to me. I’m learning—slowly, imperfectly—to meet them with softness, with self-awareness, and with hope. Even when I slip, even when it’s hard, I keep reminding myself:

I can begin again.

And again.

And again.

Because when life gives me lemons, I won’t just make lemonade.

I’ll build the whole stand.

Simple Steps to Cope When Life Becomes a Disaster

by Mothersense, posted in Messy Life, Uncategorized

When Your Life Is a Shitstorm: How to Pull Yourself Back from the Edge

You’re doomscrolling again. Your thumb moves, the screen refreshes, and more bad news floods in. It’s easier than thinking about your own life because, let’s face it, your life is a mess right now. Maybe it’s a slow, painful unraveling, or maybe everything collapsed at once. Either way, you’re here, trying to escape into the abyss of the internet, trying to feel something or nothing or anything other than what you are feeling right now.

First things first: Stop.

Not everything. Not forever. Just pause for a moment. Put the phone down, even if it’s just for a few seconds. You don’t have to fix everything right now. You don’t even have to do anything right now. But you do have to breathe. Not the automatic, shallow breathing that keeps you technically alive, but the kind where you take control of your own body again.

Breathe Like You Mean It

Breathe in deeply, slowly, deliberately. Feel the air fill your lungs. Hold it for a moment, then let it out. Do it again. And again. Because when everything feels out of control, this is the one thing you can control. You can’t change the past, you can’t predict the future, and you can’t force other people to act the way you want them to. But you can breathe, right now, in this moment.

Eat Something. No, Really.

Have you eaten today? No, coffee doesn’t count. Neither does the handful of crackers you barely noticed shoving into your mouth. Eat something real. It doesn’t have to be healthy. It just has to be food. A sandwich, a bowl of cereal, some fruit, even a damn granola bar—just something with actual calories and nutrients. When life is a wreck, basic self-care falls by the wayside, and eating is one of the first things to go. But you need fuel. You wouldn’t expect a car to run on an empty tank, so why are you expecting your body and mind to function when you haven’t given them anything to work with?

Drink Some Water. Yes, Right Now.

Dehydration sneaks up on you. It makes you foggy, sluggish, and more irritable. It messes with your mood and your ability to think clearly. And when you’re in crisis mode, drinking enough water is often the last thing on your mind. Grab a glass, a bottle, anything. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be lemon-infused or electrolyte-enhanced. Just drink.

Be Still.

This one is hard. We live in a world that screams at us to always be doing something, fixing something, achieving something. But when everything is a disaster, sometimes the best thing you can do is nothing. Be still. Let your body settle, let your mind settle. Give yourself permission to not have the answers, to not have a plan, to not know what comes next. Sometimes, the storm has to pass before you can even see the ground beneath your feet again.

Being still doesn’t mean you’re giving up. It means you’re letting your nervous system catch up, allowing your emotions to level out so that when you do move forward, you’re doing so with a clearer head and steadier hands.

You Are Still Here.

Life is not always fair. It is not always kind. Sometimes, it throws things at you that you never asked for and don’t deserve. But you are still here. And as long as you are here, you have choices. Maybe not the ones you wish you had, maybe not the ones that make everything magically better, but some choices.

Start with the small ones. The ones that remind you that you are, in fact, still in control of something. Breathe. Eat. Drink. Be still. And when you’re ready, take the next step. One moment, one breath, one tiny act of care at a time.

You’ve survived 100% of your worst days so far. You can survive this one too.