The thing nobody tells you about running a successful business while your brain is on fire: eventually, the fire wins. Last December, I handed my marketing company over to my husband. Just... gave it to him 100%. Seven years of building this thing since 2017, and I literally said "I can't do this anymore, it's yours now" and walked away.

“If I move, then I’ll finally decorate. If I move, then I’ll feel safe. If I move, then I’ll start my life.” Sound familiar? Same. That “when I move” loop is survival brain’s favorite stall tactic. These prompts help when you keep telling yourself life starts “after the next move.” They let you put words to the fear of settling and start claiming space where you are.

Ever sit in your own living room and feel like you are not safe? Like you can’t settle in because it’ll just be taken away from you eventually. Doesn’t matter if your name’s on the lease, your nervous system still acts like you’re about to get kicked out. That’s trauma brain. It’s loud.

Restless in your own house? These prompts get the static out of your head and onto paper so you can finally breathe for five minutes.

Ever buy yourself something, then feel like you don’t deserve it? That’s not frugality, that’s guilt from years of being told joy has to be earned. These prompts help unpack guilt around spending money on yourself or decorating your space. They remind you that joy isn’t something you have to earn.

If “making your house a home” sounds overwhelming, forget the house. Just claim one damn shelf.This creative exercise helps you start small: choose one shelf, table, or corner and turn it into proof that you live here.

I didn’t know I was allowed to feel safe. I grew up in survival mode. Not metaphorically. Not “wow, childhood was tough” in the vague, TikTok way. I mean real survival. Like hunger. Like being passed between homes. Like hearing adults say they didn’t want me. Like being called a burden. Like having my safety depend on how silent I could be.

Nobody’s coming to rescue us. That realization hits hard, even when you thought you already knew it. If you grew up in chaos… if you learned to earn love by walking on eggshells… if you were the kid scanning every room before you even sat down… you know this feeling. You know what it’s like to sit somewhere beautiful and still feel unsafe. You know how heavy it is to carry your own belonging everywhere you go.

Let’s not pretend things are normal right now. Some absolutely unhinged shit has happened lately (both globally and personally, if we’re being real), and somehow we’re still expected to go to work, feed our kids, hit our deadlines, clean the bathroom, answer texts, and smile in the grocery store like our nervous systems aren't just dry-heaving under the weight of it all.

That’s messed up. And yet here we are.

Sometimes all it takes is moving one thing to trick your brain into noticing: this is my space. This exercise helps you shift the energy in your home in five minutes. Rearrange one object, step back, and let your nervous system register the change.

I used to think mindfulness meant hour-long meditations. Turns out, tiny moments like this over time are just as effective (if not more.)

Sometimes calm feels sketchy. Too quiet, too still, too suspicious. This visualization helps you retrain your brain to stop waiting for the crash. Use this short practice when silence feels unsafe. It helps remind your nervous system that calm isn’t a setup, it’s allowed.

Survival mode kept you alive, but it’s exhausting when it never turns off. This visualization helps you pack it away when you don’t need it. Imagine gathering up your hypervigilance and stashing it on a shelf. It’s still there if you need it, but it doesn’t get to run the show right now.