ABOUT ME
I STOPPED PRAYING TO BE SAVED & I PLANTED SEEDS INSTEAD.
I was the middle of seven daughters, raised in Wellington inside a world where love had to be earned — performed for, prayed for, never freely given. I was told I was born a sinner. So I learned to be exceptional at becoming whoever the room needed me to be.
I built a career. Became a wife. Gave it all up to raise my children — and poured everything I had into that. I was exceptional at that too. But somewhere in the giving, I disappeared.
I will always be their mum. That never changes. But when they no longer needed me the same way, the silence nearly broke me. I had never learned to fill my own cup — only to empty it for others. I turned to alcohol and cocaine, trying to numb pain I’d been carrying since childhood, trying to check out of a body I never felt safe in. Then, almost all at once, I had to rebuild a career from nothing, and I lost my grandad, my adoptive mother, and my dog.
I didn’t have a breakdown. I had a reckoning.
I saw the programming, religion, birth order, ancestry, a lifetime of looking outside myself for permission to exist. I saw the victim I’d unconsciously become. And I chose myself. Not once — over and over, in the messy, unglamorous work of unbecoming everything I’d been taught to be, including the numbing. I have reinvented myself more times than I can count. I know what it is to burn down an identity and rebuild from the ashes with no map, no guarantee, no one coming to save me. I know the tools that work — not because I studied them, but because they’re the reason I’m still standing.
This is REMEMBER. Built from the fire. Made with love to hand to you.
