Dear soul who self-abandons, take my hand.

Do you remember the first time you self-abandoned? Do you remember the last?

At a young age, you learned that self-abandonment was what kept you safe. If you could manage the emotions of everyone else around you, it didn’t matter how you felt because, at least then, you would be safe.

So you began to self-abandon. To leave parts of yourself behind. To shrink yourself so you wouldn’t take up too much space, ask too many questions, be too loud, too bold, too opinionated, too… much.

And the next thing you know, self-abandonment has become your default.

It feels more comfortable to abandon yourself than to deal with the disappointment, rejection, or judgment of others because, deep down, all you really want is to be loved and accepted.

So you become a shell of a person who doesn’t have wants, needs, desires, or dreams because having those things feels like taking up too much space.

Your nervous system has crossed self-abandonment with safety.

And eventually, you reach your capacity.

I see you. I know you. I have been you.

Self-abandonment depletes your nervous system. The more we shrink ourselves, the smaller our capacity becomes. For discomfort, for joy, for connection, for being fully alive.

But when we begin choosing different patterns, when we create new pathways in our nervous system, something changes.

We become less tolerant of abandoning ourselves and less willing to stay connected to people who ask us to do so.

Other people’s opinions of you don’t have the same power they once did. Their judgment doesn’t hit quite as hard because you have built such a strong relationship with yourself that someone questioning you no longer makes you question yourself.

You know yourself.

You trust yourself.

You stop leaving yourself behind just to be loved, accepted, chosen.

And that, to me, is what coming home to yourself is.

I help women unlearn self-abandonment and come home to themselves.

If this resonates with you, I’m opening my books to take on clients. After a long hiatus, I ready to support you.

You don’t have to keep abandoning yourself to belong.

You get to come home.