For a long time, I realized I subconsciously thought a love letter needed a reason to exist.
A milestone.
An announcement.
A perfectly articulated insight.
Something neatly tied up in a bow from the month before.
Over these past few months, I’ve had lots to celebrate. Lots of endings. New beginnings. More endings. And even newer beginnings.
But honestly, I just didn’t feel like I was in the mood to put into words the whirlwind of happenings and changes I had been trying to keep up with.
Part of me has been consciously wondering if it’s because these love letters had quietly turned into another form of perfectionism dressed up as productivity.
Something that started as an intentionally designed container for me to show up to, but eventually began to feel like the thing I had to do.
So instead, I kept things just for me.
Sharing little sprinkles of my love letters verbally with my inner circle.
Sometimes it’s nice to keep things to yourself.
And sometimes it feels just as good to return without overthinking it.
A return to noticing.
A return to sharing.
A return to saying,
“Hello, I’m here.”
Over the past few months, life has felt full in ways that don’t always translate neatly into updates.
There have been voice-over auditions recorded from blanket forts and professional studios.
New writing projects taking shape in quiet corners.
Conversations that shifted something in me and helped me reconnect with a magnetism I felt I had lost for a little while.
Old seeds finally blossoming into a new home where I can offer in-person hypnosis sessions here in Vancouver.
Small celebrations that no one else would have noticed but felt significant all the same.
There have also been moments of uncertainty.
Moments of wondering if I’m doing enough.
Creating enough.
Growing fast enough.
And yet, every time I come back to myself, I remember something important:
Life is not asking us to become more impressive.
It is asking us to become more present.
To notice the beauty hiding in ordinary moments.
To celebrate progress before it becomes an achievement.
To trust the parts of ourselves that don’t fit neatly into a plan.
Recently, I’ve been collecting tiny moments of wonder:
The way sunlight stretches across my face when I actually get out of the house for a seawall walk.
The unexpected kindness between the girlies in public telling one another, “You look amazing.”
The excitement and energy of FIFA unfolding right outside my door.
A sentence that finally finds its way onto the page.
Feeling what it’s like to travel overseas for a month without being tied to my phone and deciding not to post anything about it.
The feeling of being exactly who you are… that magnetic version of yourself that emerges when you choose expansion.
These moments don’t usually make headlines.
But they make a life.
So consider this your permission slip to celebrate something small today.
A step you took.
A boundary you honoured.
A dream you haven’t given up on.
The version of yourself you weren’t a week ago, a month ago, or a year ago.
Or something you decided to return to, just because.
You don’t need to earn the celebration.
You only need to notice that you’re here.
And that, in itself, is worth acknowledging.
With curiosity, possibility, and a little imperfection,
xo Lauren
*If you’ve been feeling like you’re ready for a return to something old or a start to something new… I invite you to do hypnosis with me.
P.S. You can even book a free consultation call with me to find out more.