In 2018, after the birth of my first child, I experienced a mental health crisis that brought me to the edge of everything I knew. I found myself in a psychiatric hospital, hollowed out by hopelessness, unsure if I could go on.
I knew I needed to stay alive for my just-born daughter. But part of me still believed the world (and probably even my family) would be better off without me. That kind of despair doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds quietly, slowly, under the surface. And when it breaks, it leaves you grasping for anything solid.
For me, the slow way back began with professional help and with writing.
Journaling became a thread I could follow. Sometimes it was just a few scribbled lines. Sometimes it poured out of me. Over time, I realized I was learning how to hear myself again. My thoughts. My feelings. My story. Not the polished version, but the real one. The messy, complicated, deeply human one.
Writing helped me remember what mattered. It helped me hold space for both pain and possibility. It helped me begin to shape my struggles into something more creative, more alive.
That’s why I started Write to Heal.
Because we live in a world that pulls us away from ourselves—into burnout, comparison, productivity, performance. And I want to offer a space that gently invites you back. Back to your breath. Back to your words. Back to the quiet truth inside you.
Today, I’m a writer and a poet. But I’m still healing, too. Still growing, still getting quiet enough to listen. If you’re here, maybe you are too. I hope this space can be a soft place to land.
Welcome. I’m glad you’re here.