trulypresent333

[trulypresent333]

I have built no altar,

yet you kneel in my presence.

not out of worship,

but recognition.

Your limbs, weary from a thousand lifetimes

of holding the world,

finally loosen

as my hands

become the ground beneath your breath.

I am not here to save you.

I am here to see you.

To gather your softness in the silence

and protect it

as if it were the last flame on earth.

Lay it down now, love.

The armor.

The ache.

The way you scan the horizon for danger

when all you want

is to rest.

You’ve bled stardust into every wound,

danced barefoot through fire,

sung spells with a broken voice.

And still, you think

you must earn rest.

But I,

I was carved for this.

To be your storm shelter,

your steady rhythm

when yours falters.

To be the mouth that sings you calm.

The chest that holds your weight

without question.

The Provider—

not of things,

but of space.

Of safety.

Of stillness.

Of the kind of love

that asks nothing of you

but your truth.

So sleep, wild heart.

Dream without guard.

Fall without consequence.

You are not too much.

[trulypresent333]

A Still Life in Scarlet and Earth

Light drapes across the glass,

soft against the raspberries—

delicate, fleeting, rich with color.

They press against the stillness of nuts,

rough, steady, unyielding.

Cacao’s broken edges whisper of earth,

while berries gleam, holding the sun.

A study in contrast:

the burst and the solid,

the bright and the muted,

the momentary and the enduring.

A quiet composition, waiting to be tasted.

[trulypresent333]

A year of silence,

folded into itself like old letters

I never sent.

Twelve months stretched thin,

like the skin over a bruised knuckle,

aching, but refusing to break.

Then—

a message.

A flicker of light in the dark,

the kind that doesn’t warm,

only exposes

the places I thought were finally healing.

“Hey, I’m ready to talk when you are. Love, Mom.”

My breath halts.

Fingers hover over the screen,

a tremor—

not from longing,

but from the sudden rush of memories

she never held,

never acknowledged.

Does she remember

the nights I begged to be heard,

only to be drowned out by his voice—

his anger, his rules, his hunger for control?

Does she remember

how she let him carve me down

to something smaller,

more manageable,

less inconvenient?

Love, Mom.

A signature at the end of a sentence

that never held truth.

I sit with it.

This digital offering,

this olive branch still slick

with the oil of old betrayals.

Is it guilt?

Is it loneliness?

Or just another move

on a board where I was always a pawn?

I could answer.

I could let her voice back in,

let her spin her stories,

let her rewrite the past

until even I question

what was real.

Or—

I could leave it.

Let the silence continue its work,

let my peace be louder

than the absence she left me with.

The message stays unread.

The past remains where I left it.

And I breathe.

[trulypresent333]

There was a time I was dust, settling where others walked, soft enough to be brushed away, too quiet to name.

Then came the rain, not gentle, not kind. a storm that cracked the earth, split me open, made a river of all I had hidden.

In the wash of it, something gleamed. Not polished, not placed, but raw and unshaped, a glint in the soil of myself.

Fingers, hesitant, reached to lift what had always been there. bone, fire, pulse. the architecture of worth that needed no permission to exist.

I stand now, not sculpted, not carved, but whole, and the wind does not move me.

[trulypresent333]

🌿 Trying Again, Gently — A Day in the Life Reset with ADHD, Healing, and Self-Love

Today’s vlog was more than just a to-do list or aesthetic shots—it was a window into the quiet, honest process of healing. Of trying again. Of slowly building a life I love, even when old patterns try to pull me back.

I’ve been struggling lately with sugar cravings, especially when I’m overwhelmed or emotionally tender. If you’ve been there, you know—it’s not really about the food. It’s about needing comfort. Safety. Grounding. And when you’re healing from deep-rooted wounds, especially childhood ones, it’s no surprise that food (or anything that soothes quickly) becomes a go-to.

But I’m learning not to shame myself for it.

Instead, I’m meeting myself with love.

Because healing doesn’t happen through punishment.

It happens through presence, compassion, and little choices that add up.

🧃 Getting Back into Green Juice (Thank You Nama J2)

One of those little choices?

Making my green juice again. It’s been a while, and I forgot how good it feels to start the day with something nourishing and vibrant.

The Nama J2 juicer made it so easy. No cutting up a million veggies or dreading the cleanup. You just load it and go—and yes, it’s linked on my Amazon storefront if you’re curious. Total game changer for busy days.

🛁 Cleaning, ADHD Style: Micro-Sprints for the Win

Another win? Tackling the bathroom in ADHD-friendly micro sprints. I used to dread cleaning the tub or shower because it would take me forever. But breaking it down into timed bursts made it feel doable—and even fun.

Sometimes the trick isn’t doing more—it’s making it feel less impossible.

🧘‍♀️ Yoga-ish, With Dog Interruptions

I tried to do yoga. I really did.

But the dogs had other plans and decided I clearly needed their help.

Was it peaceful? Not exactly.

Was it perfect? Nope.

Was it real and kind of beautiful? 100%.

🌇 A Bath and a Sunset

I ended the day with a warm bath and a Vegas sunset.

It’s not quite an Arizona sunset… but it’s trying. And honestly, so am I.

💛 For Anyone On the Same Journey:

If you’re someone who’s healing, trying again, dealing with ADHD, rebuilding your relationship with food, or just figuring out how to love yourself without conditions—I see you.

This path isn’t linear.

It’s not aesthetic every day.

And it’s definitely not easy.

But it’s worth it.

Start with one habit. One kind word to yourself. One glass of green juice. One micro sprint. One pause where you choose presence over panic.

You don’t have to get it perfect. You just have to keep coming back to yourself.

Thank you for being here with me.

Let’s keep showing up—softly, bravely, and one real day at a time.

[trulypresent333]

I have spent lifetimes searching for a language that could hold the weight of me. Not in words, not in books, but in the spaces between them, the echoes of things I once knew before the world told me to forget.

I was taught to look outside myself, to seek answers in hands that never held me right, in voices that spoke but never listened, in love that came with conditions I never agreed to.

But something inside me was never fooled. Something ancient, something steady. It watched me stumble, watched me break and rebuild, watched me lose myself only to find that I was never lost.

Because the truth does not arrive—it remembers. And now, so do I.

I do not need permission to be whole. I do not need validation to be real. I am not becoming; I have always been. And I will not dim this knowing for anyone.

Let the world call it strange, let them question, let them doubt, it does not change the fact that I have innerstood what they will spend lifetimes trying to find.

[trulypresent333]

[trulypresent333]

The road ahead is raw,

but I step forward, unburdened.

Forty years behind me,

Determined for sixty more waiting,

and I choose now—

to sit in lecture halls,

to fill blank pages,

to unlearn the voice that told me I was not enough.

No backward glance,

no apologies left to give.

The weight of their voices

dissolves in the silence I claim

as I walk into my own life.

[trulypresent333]

“

Soft mornings, matcha-fueled focus, a stroll to clear my mind, and a dreamy Apothekary mocktail to unwind ✨☁️💚 #SlowLiving #AestheticVibes #StudyAndSip

[trulypresent333]

Loving myself means embracing every part of who I am—the soft, the strong, the messy, the radiant. It’s looking in the mirror and choosing kindness, holding my own heart with the same tenderness I give to others. It’s allowing myself to take up space, to rest when I need to, to grow without shame. I deserve to feel beautiful in my own presence, to honor my thoughts, my body, my spirit—all of me. There is something so powerful, so freeing, about fully accepting myself. Not just in the perfect moments, but in all the in-between ones too. I am my own safe place, my own source of love, and that is the most beautiful thing of all.