The Wilderness Between Who I Was and Who I'm Becoming

I didn’t start this journey because it was poetic.
I started it because I was breaking.

Because I was tired of shrinking. Tired of apologizing for being too emotional, too bold, too much. Tired of rearranging myself for jobs, relationships, expectations—and calling it love.
I was exhausted, ache-deep, from living a life built around everyone else’s comfort.

So I did something radical:
I stopped performing.

I threw away the pills they said would fix me.
I shut off the noise of social media.
I started crying in the woods instead of in secret.
And I began building this space—American Wilderness Woman—as a sacred container where no part of me has to hide.

I didn’t build this because I had all the answers.
I built this because I was ready to stop pretending I did.

This is a place for women who are waking up with blistered feet and wild hearts.
For the ones who feel something stirring but haven’t named it yet.
For the ones doing the work quietly, bravely, beneath the surface.

Here, I’ll share the gear I pack and the recipes that feed my family.
I’ll offer the lists I make when I need grounding.
I’ll tell the truth even when it’s messy. Especially then.
Because maybe you need to hear it, too.

We are allowed to change.
We are allowed to soften and sharpen at the same time.
We are allowed to come home to ourselves in the wildest ways.

So if you're here, know this:

You’re not lost.
You’re just returning.
And this space is yours, too.

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