Ashes & Ink

Ashes & Ink

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  • May 11, 2025

    More Than Flower: A Love Letter to the Tired Mothers

    More Than Flower: A Love Letter to the Tired Mothers

    This one’s for you— The mom with dishes in the sink and laundry on the couch. The one who answered a million questions before 10am and forgot to drink her coffee while it was still warm. The mom who’s tired but still showed up. Again. This post is for the mothers who carry more than just…

  • May 6, 2025

    The Guilt I Can’t Uncarry

    The Guilt I Can’t Uncarry

    Some awakenings come gently. This one didn’t. This one shattered me, on the side of a hockey rink, sitting on the cold concrete floor holding my son. It was the last away game of the 2023 season. Just me and my son this time. I had started taking him to games myself. Not because I…

  • April 20, 2025

    I Didn’t Know I Was In Survival Mode: The Collapse Before The Awakening

    I Didn’t Know I Was In Survival Mode: The Collapse Before The Awakening

    I didn’t know I was in survival mode.Because I was naive, naive to how bad it really was. I didn’t know that long-term fear and chronic stresscould quietly dismantle a nervous system.That the body keeps scoreeven when the mind insists everything’s fine. I didn’t understand trauma.And I definitely didn’t understand mental health.I wasn’t raised in…

  • April 12, 2025

    Juice Boxes Over Cocktails: My Nervous System Said So

    Juice Boxes Over Cocktails: My Nervous System Said So

    Most people think survival mode looks like chaos.   Panic attacks. Screaming. Obvious distress.   But that’s not how it usually shows up, at least not for me. Survival mode is quiet.   It’s calculated.   It’s the tension in my jaw on the drive over.   It’s the rehearsed “safe” phrases looping in my…

  • April 9, 2025

    Why I’m Speaking Up: Living, Healing, and Mothering Through Trauma

    Why I’m Speaking Up: Living, Healing, and Mothering Through Trauma

    I never planned to write about my trauma. For a long time, I was just trying to survive it—quietly, privately, and as invisibly as possible. But silence didn’t protect me. It didn’t help me heal nor did it create the kind of change I needed. This blog is my attempt to make sense of what…

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