There’s something about September that always feels like a fresh start.

Not in a “new year, new me” kind of way, but in a quieter sense. A chance to check in with myself and ask, How do I want to feel going into this next season?

This September feels especially meaningful because I’m finally following through on a promise I made to myself last year.

I’m taking my first true solo trip.

I’ll be starting in Amsterdam for a few days before heading to MAYRLIFE in Austria, and honestly, I’m just as excited for the solo adventure as I am for the wellness clinic itself.

I’m looking forward to slow mornings, wandering a city I’ve never explored before, finding little cafés, sitting in museums and galleries for as long as I want, walking without a destination, and remembering how much I genuinely enjoy my own company.

There’s something really empowering about choosing to take yourself somewhere you’ve always wanted to go.

It feels like a promise kept.

Why MAYRLIFE?

After Amsterdam, I’ll be spending a week at MAYRLIFE.

If you’re not familiar, it’s a medical wellness clinic that takes a comprehensive approach to understanding your health. I’ll be doing everything from blood work and gut testing to looking at the pieces in between that often get overlooked when you’re trying to connect the dots.

As many of you know, the last few years have involved a lot of trying to understand my body. Hormones, digestion, inflammation, energy, stress…it’s felt like a puzzle I’ve been slowly putting together.

Of course, I’m hoping I leave with more answers.

But more than anything, I’m looking forward to being in an environment where my nervous system can finally exhale. A place where I’m surrounded by professionals who understand complex health concerns and where, for a week, I can simply focus on healing instead of constantly trying to figure everything out myself.

I’m also making a promise to myself that whatever I learn there won’t stay in Austria.

I want to bring those habits home.

Because the goal has never been to feel amazing for one week. The goal is to build a life that supports the version of me I’m becoming.

What I’m committing to this fall

More than anything, September is about creating a stronger foundation.

Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too.

I’m committing to nourishing myself in ways that go far beyond food.

That means speaking to myself more kindly.

Keeping up with JournalSpeak, meditation, breathwork, and the practices that help regulate my nervous system instead of only reaching for them when I’m overwhelmed.

Eating foods that genuinely make me feel energized and supported.

Strength training because I want to feel capable and resilient, not because I’m chasing a certain look.

Moving my body because I love what it does for my mind.

And reminding myself that healing isn’t just what happens inside a clinic. It’s what happens in the ordinary choices I make once I’m back home.

Preparing for what’s next

I have a feeling this fall is going to bring a new chapter.

There may be something I’m launching that I’ve been quietly pouring my heart into, and more than anything, I want to meet that season from a place of steadiness instead of survival.

I don’t expect life to become less stressful.

I just want my baseline—my body, my mind, and my nervous system—to be strong enough to hold both the excitement and the pressure that comes with building something meaningful.

That’s what this September reset is really about.

Not becoming someone new.

Just becoming a little more supported, a little more grounded, and a little more myself.

And when I’m home, I’ll be sharing a full, honest recap of my solo trip to MAYRLIFE—everything from Amsterdam, the testing, treatments, food, daily routine, what surprised me, what I’d do differently, and whether I’d recommend the experience.

If there’s anything you’re curious about, let me know below so I can bring you along with me.

Here’s to keeping promises to ourselves.

Not happiness exactly.

Not success.

Not even confidence.

It’s a certain kind of nervousness.

The kind that shows up right before an audition. Before sharing something you’ve made. Before pressing publish on a piece of writing that feels a little too honest. Before telling the truth. Before becoming someone new.

That feeling where you’re excited and terrified at the exact same time.

For a long time, I thought the goal was to get rid of that feeling.

To become so confident, so healed, so established that I no longer felt nervous.

But lately I’ve been wondering if I got that backwards.

Because some of the most alive I’ve ever felt happened in seasons where I was constantly a little nervous.

When I was acting.

When I was singing.

When I was creating things without knowing if anyone would like them.

When I was doing things that felt exposing.

Somewhere along the way, I started telling myself a different story.

That I had grown out of that version of me.

That I was focused on business now.

That being nervous meant I wasn’t ready.

That if I was doing life correctly, I’d feel certain.

And without realizing it, I slowly started removing the very things that made me feel awake.

Not intentionally.

Just little decisions.

Choosing the safer route.

Waiting until something felt fully formed.

Needing a clearer plan.

Wanting more certainty before I moved.

The funny thing is, when I look back, the moments that changed my life were rarely the ones I felt completely ready for.

They were the ones that made my stomach flip.

The ones that made me think, oh god, should I really do this?

The ones that mattered.

And maybe that’s because our bodies know something before our minds do.

When something is meaningful, we feel it.

Our attention sharpens.

Our heart beats a little faster.

We become present.

Not because something is wrong.

Because something matters.

I’ve spent so much of the last few years focused on calming my nervous system, and that work has changed my life.

But there’s a difference between peace and numbness.

A difference between regulation and playing small.

And I think I’ve been learning that one of the most important parts of healing is not just feeling safe enough to rest.

It’s feeling safe enough to come alive again.

Safe enough to want things.

Safe enough to create.

Safe enough to risk being seen.

Safe enough to be nervous.

Because maybe nervousness isn’t always something to overcome.

Maybe sometimes it’s a compass.

Maybe it’s life tapping you on the shoulder and saying, pay attention to this.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about identity too.

About how easy it is to stop calling yourself something when you’re not actively doing it.

I stopped acting.

I stopped singing.

I stopped introducing myself as an artist.

And eventually I started believing maybe I wasn’t one anymore.

But I don’t think being an artist is something you earn through output.

I think it’s how you move through the world.

It’s curiosity.

It’s noticing things.

It’s being affected by beauty.

It’s feeling something deeply enough that you need to express it.

And if that’s true, maybe I’ve been an artist this entire time.

I’ve just been forgetting.

The In Between has become the name for this season of my life because that’s exactly what it feels like.

Not who I was.

Not quite who I’m becoming.

Just somewhere in the middle.

And for a while I treated that space like a waiting room.

Like I needed to hurry up and figure everything out.

Now I’m starting to think the in between is where most of life actually happens.

It’s where you experiment.

It’s where you remember old pieces of yourself.

It’s where new dreams show up.

It’s where you gather evidence for who you’re becoming.

So if I’m being honest, the nervousness I’ve been feeling lately doesn’t scare me the way it used to.

I think it’s a sign that something is waking up.

And if you’re in your own version of the in between right now, where the old story doesn’t fit anymore but the new one hasn’t fully arrived…maybe that’s true for you too.

Maybe the nervousness isn’t telling you to stop.

Maybe it’s telling you where to look.

Read more

My body is changing.

Read more

Nothing dramatic changes.

No big breakthrough.

No announcement.

But something inside you rearranges.

You wake up one morning and the heaviness you’ve been carrying doesn’t feel quite as loud. The questions that once felt urgent suddenly soften. The pressure lifts just enough for you to breathe again.

I’ve started to realize that some of the biggest changes in life don’t happen loudly.

They happen in what I’ve started to think of as the quiet shift.

For a while, life can feel like it’s not moving.

You’re doing the right things.

You’re trying to listen to yourself.

You’re healing, recalibrating, questioning everything.

But nothing seems to change fast enough.

You analyze your life.

Your body.

Your work.

Your relationships.

You wonder if you’re falling behind.

And the strange thing about these seasons is that from the outside, nothing looks wrong. But internally, it can feel like you’re walking through fog.

The quiet shift doesn’t look like a breakthrough.

It looks like this:

One morning you wake up and the fog is slightly thinner.

You notice yourself making coffee without the same heaviness in your chest.

You realize the future doesn’t feel so tense to imagine anymore.

You start seeing possibilities where you once saw problems.

Your goals are still there.

Your life hasn’t magically transformed overnight.

But something subtle has changed.

And the strange part is that you can’t always force these shifts… even when you’re doing all the right things.

Sometimes they arrive quietly after you’ve spoken a little kinder to yourself.

After you’ve taken a few deeper breaths than usual.

After you’ve said no to one or two things that didn’t feel right.

Little moments of self-trust that almost seem insignificant at the time.

Until suddenly they aren’t.

Because one day you realize the fog has lifted just enough to see where you’re going again.

I used to think transformation had to be dramatic.

Big decisions.

Huge moments.

Clear turning points.

But most real change happens in a much quieter way.

It happens when the nervous system softens.

When the body feels safe enough to move again.

When hope returns in small, almost unnoticeable ways.

And suddenly the things you’ve been working toward don’t feel impossible anymore.

They feel… inevitable.

The quiet shift is easy to miss.

It doesn’t demand attention.

It doesn’t come with fireworks.

But if you’re paying attention, you can feel it.

The moment when life stops feeling like something you’re trying to fix…

and starts feeling like something that’s slowly starting to work out.

Read more

Have a backup plan.

Be realistic.

Don’t assume things will just work out.

Read more

This has become my go-to winter ritual when I want something comforting, grounding, and supportive for digestion… without caffeine, sugar spikes, or heaviness.

It’s technically hot cocoa, but it feels more like a nervous-system hug.

Why I Love This So Much

    •    Calming without knocking me out

    •    Easy on digestion (no dairy required)

    •    Zero prep stress… literally hot water + one scoop

    •    Feels indulgent but supports how I want to feel at night

Read more

Indecisive. Behind. Too sensitive.

But I’m realizing something different now.

I wasn’t broken… I was highly receptive.

Being an empath doesn’t just mean feeling emotions more deeply. It means absorbing energy, opinions, urgency, and certainty, especially from louder voices, stronger personalities, and collective fear.

I didn’t always know where I ended and everyone else began.

Intuition vs. Absorbed Fear

One of the most important distinctions I’ve learned is this:

• True intuition feels quiet, steady, and neutral.

• Absorbed fear feels loud, urgent, and demanding immediate action.

If something feels panicked, shaming, or pressurized it’s rarely intuition.

It’s usually someone else’s anxiety moving through you.

As empaths, we often mistake intensity for truth.

How This Showed Up in My Life

For years, I believed certain paths were “right” or “wrong” based on what I absorbed from others:

• what success should look like

• how fast life should move

• what I should be doing publicly

• what I should care about, comment on, or react to

Walking away from acting , and instead diving into this thing called social media that was new, felt like failure at first. Like I was quitting. Like I was missing something everyone else seemed so sure about.

But it wasn’t self-sabotage.

It was redirection.

My body knew before my mind did.

It’s like I could feel my future with both directions, and acting felt dark and lonely, and this new idea and direction felt free and filled with opportunities.

Not Every Feeling Is Yours

Empaths tend to assume:

“If I feel this strongly, it must be mine.”

But sometimes the real work is asking:

“Is this actually mine to hold?”

Not every opinion deserves a seat in your nervous system.

Not every emotional wave passing through you requires your response.

And not every moment of collective urgency needs your voice.

Discernment is not avoidance.

It’s self-respect.

Regulation Over Reaction

I don’t believe we’re meant to respond to everything immediately.

I don’t believe loudness equals truth.

And I don’t believe constant reaction leads to healing.

For sensitive people, learning to pause is everything.

When you regulate instead of react, clarity returns.

When you step back, intuition gets quieter and truer.

When you stop absorbing everyone else’s certainty, your own knowing comes back online.

What I’m Practicing Now

I’m learning to let opinions pass through me without sticking.

To listen without absorbing.

To care without carrying.

I no longer feel the need to prove my values through constant commentary.

I trust that how I live, how I love, and how I treat people speaks louder than any performance ever could.

Closing

Sensitivity isn’t weakness.

It’s discernment….once you learn what’s yours and what isn’t.

Not everything requires my voice.

Not every feeling belongs to me.

And sometimes the most intuitive thing you can do

is pause, breathe, and choose your own frequency.

I love it at night as a sweet treat, or in the morning when I’m taking a break from coffee or matcha. It genuinely tastes like hot chocolate, not bone broth, but still supports my gut, nervous system, and protein needs.

Read more

1. Overriding my body’s signals

I’m done treating discomfort as something to push through. Listening sooner has proven to be the fastest path to healing.

2. Treating urgency like importance

This one’s a big challenge for me sometimes. Not everything needs an immediate response. Calm decisions create better outcomes than rushe…

Read more

I softened the way I spoke. I edited my curiosity. I learned how to read a room quickly and adjust myself just enough to fit. I told myself it was maturity. That it was grace. That it was what you do when you want to be liked, respected, and easy to work with.

Somewhere along the way, I confused humility with disappearing.

I have always been someone who thinks deeply. I like nuance. I like meaning. I like asking questions that don’t always have immediate answers. That way of being has never fit neatly into every room or every industry. And over time, instead of trusting that, I learned how to turn it down. I learned how to simplify myself so I wouldn’t feel like too much. I learned how to be palatable.

At first, it felt like adaptation. But slowly, it became self-editing.

There is a subtle pressure in certain environments, especially ones built on visibility and likability, to smooth yourself out. To match the energy. To meet people where they are even if it means leaving parts of yourself behind. And as women, we are often praised for this. We are called humble, agreeable, easy. Rarely are we asked what it costs.

Read more

Read more

My nervous system was doomed, and my relationship to sleep became my absolute nightmare.

Read more

Not in a bad way at all. Just real in a way I didn’t see coming.

It was the year I basically got everything I said I wanted — the move, the relationship, the career shifts, the sense of direction. And yes, that felt incredible. But it also pulled up a lot of things I didn’t realize were sitting under the surface.

Because getting what you want sounds simple… until it actually happens.

Then you’re left face-to-face with all the old narratives that say:

“Are you sure you’re someone who gets to have this?”

A little context about where I came from

I grew up in more chaos than I ever named out loud — teen parents doing their best, financial stress, no real model of a stable relationship, and definitely not a consistent home base. I didn’t grow up with the luxury of assuming things would work out.

So when life finally did?

My system didn’t know what to do with it.

Stability felt suspicious.

Love felt overwhelming.

Support felt foreign.

This year brought all of that to the surface — not in a dramatic way, just in a “wow, I have some rewiring to do” kind of way. And even though it’s been uncomfortable, I’m really proud of the work I’ve done. I can feel something closing out. Clearing out.

And yes, my Saturn return ends in February, and no, I’m not blaming everything on astrology — but the timing does line up.

And then… the health chapter

While all the emotional layers were cracking open, my body also decided to file its own complaints:

inflammation, gut issues, histamine chaos, hormonal confusion, insomnia, nervous system spikes — the whole parade.

But even that feels connected.

Like my body was finally loud enough to say, “We can’t keep doing things the old way.”

I truly believe a lot of my symptoms are tied to unhealed stress patterns, self-worth, and growing up in survival mode. And with everything shifting internally, I feel something shifting physically too.

Plus, I just started a new protocol for:

• inflammation

• gut repair

• hormones

• histamine

• sleep

• nervous system regulation

• (everything essential for feeling like a human)

And I’ll write a full post on that soon.

So here’s what I’m calling in for 2026:

(no fluff, no delusion — just clarity)

1. A Regulated, Strong Body

Glowy, rested, de-puffed, toned, balanced.

Movement that supports me. Food that doesn’t inflame me.

A body that feels like home, not a project.

2. Self-Worth That Actually Matches My Life

Letting myself have the good things.

Not waiting for a missing puzzle piece.

Not shrinking out of old habits.

Just choosing to believe I deserve stability and love.

3. Creative Clarity + Output

More writing. More Substack.

Ideas I actually follow through on.

My business dream opportunities continuing to expand and flow in.

Projects that energize me, not drain me.

4. Soft, Steady Wealth

Better systems.

Consistent income.

No financial chaos.

Money that feels calm.

5. A Partnership That Continues to Expand Me

More connection. More laughter. More depth.

A relationship that feels like a safe place to land — not something to tiptoe around.

So grateful to have this is in my life. I will admit, it has always been my biggest dream.

6. Rooted, Aligned Community

Friends who add, not deplete.

More dinners, more slow nights in, more genuine conversations.

Continuing to stand by my people as they take these next steps in their lives.

7. A Home That Regulates Me

Ojai mornings.

Nature everywhere.

A space that heals instead of overstimulates.

8. Inspired Travel

Trips that give me something — perspective, calm, creativity.

Europe, nature, sunlight, slow days.

A solo trip that brings a ton of expansion and growth.

9. A Stronger Identity

More confidence.

Less apologizing.

Less people-pleasing.

Clear boundaries.

Clear sense of self.

10. Ease

Not perfection.

Not control.

Just ease, honesty, and trust.

2026 isn’t about becoming a different person.

It’s about stepping fully into the woman I’ve been slowly creating — the woman who finally lets her life be good, steady, and peaceful.

Becoming her — grounded, clear, and ready.

So I put together a holiday gift guide filled with pieces I genuinely love, and ideas for every kind of person in your life. It’s less about buying something, and more about the feeling of letting someone know, I thought of you. You matter. You deserve something sweet.

Hope you find something for yourself or someone you love xx

2025 GIFT GUIDE

simple things. feel-good things. the things actually supporting me right now.

maybe something in here lands for you too.

wellness platform links and codes

FORM (strength/pilates) - ALYSSA

MelissaWoodHealth (slow movement/pilates) - ALYSSA5

Sculpt Society (dance cardio/sculpt) -ALYSSA25

Open - (meditation and breathwork) - ALYSSA

• wellness rituals + nervous system support

• hotel guides, travel notes, and places i love

• cafés, treatments, and local favorites

• beauty, fashion, and home essentials

• the things i’m learning, loving, and moving through

• the small stories that don’t fit anywhere else

no performance. no pressure. just connection, honesty, and the in-between moments that make us feel understood.

if you’re here, thank you.

i’m really happy to have you.

— alyssa

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