Three versions of you, three messages, and one of them has been trying to get your attention for a while. This week's cards are all about the child you used to be, before the world taught you to shrink, perform, or hide. Look at the three below. Don't overthink it, just notice which one you feel in your chest, not your head. 💙 Card 1 — The Dreamer 💗 Card 2 — The Wildflower 💜 Card 3 — The Keeper 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗢 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬: ● 1️⃣ Look at all three cards ● 2️⃣ Comment the number you're drawn to (1, 2, or 3) ● 3️⃣ I'll reply with your card's message, plus a journal prompt to carry into the week There are no wrong answers here. Whichever one you pick, your inner child has probably been waiting a long time for you to finally listen. Drop your number below. I can't wait to see who shows up today.

You don’t become a new person overnight. You become them every time you make a different choice. Every boundary you set. Every promise you keep. Every time you refuse to return to an old pattern. What is one choice your future self needs you to make today? Share it below. 👇

I have a confession (yes, another one): for years I thought "processing" old pain meant reliving it. Turning the story over and over, running through every detail, until I was sick of it. I was hoping that's what "healing" felt like. But, my NLP training flipped that for me. You see, I learnt that you don't have to relive something to release it. "𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙖 𝙗𝙪𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙠 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢." — 𝘼𝙣𝙖ï𝙨 𝙉𝙞𝙣 Here's what I realised: you can't drive forward while you're staring in the rearview mirror. Old wounds. Old roles. The version of you that got left behind somewhere. None of that is who you are now. It's just clutter on the windscreen. And the longer it stays there, the harder it is to see where you're actually going. Your identity isn't fixed. You're allowed to set down what you've been carrying: the regret, the "what if," the old story. And, what's even better, you don't have to relive a single minute of it to do it. 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸: 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝘅𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁. Drop a 🙌 in the comments if there's something from your past you're ready to stop dragging into today. There's no need to say what it is, just notice it.

This week's isn't even really a recipe, it's a system. Fifteen minutes on a Sunday gets you four ready-made lunches sitting in your fridge, no reheating, no last-minute "what am I going to eat" panic. Here is a quick recipe for one option. 𝗧𝘂𝗻𝗮 & 𝗕𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗦𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗱 𝗝𝗮𝗿𝘀 Serves 4 (as meal-prep jars) · Prep: 15 min · No cooking required 𝘐𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴: ● 2 tins tuna in brine, drained ● 1 tin butter beans or cannellini beans, drained and rinsed ● 1 cucumber, diced ● A handful cherry tomatoes, halved ● ¼ red onion, finely sliced ● Olive oil and lemon juice, for dressing ● Salt and pepper, to taste ● Optional: crumbled feta 𝘔𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘥: 1. In each jar, add the dressing (a splash of olive oil, a squeeze of lemon, salt and pepper) right at the bottom. 2. Layer the beans next, then the red onion and tomatoes, then the cucumber. 3. Top with the tuna and feta if using — keep it on top so nothing goes soggy. 4. Seal and refrigerate. Keeps well for up to 4 days. 5. When you're ready to eat, tip it into a bowl (or just shake the jar) so the dressing coats everything from the bottom up. If you're not a fan of Tuna, swap it out for chicken breast or chickpeas. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶: Tuna is lean protein with a good dose of omega-3s. Beans add fibre and plant protein on top of that, which is what gives this salad real staying power instead of leaving you hungry by 3pm. The fresh veg rounds it out with vitamins and crunch. 𝘉𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘱: Tuna in brine is cheaper than tuna in oil, and healthier too. A single tin of beans effectively stretches into four servings of protein and fibre, so you're not relying on the (more expensive) tuna alone to fill you up. Buy whatever salad veg is in season — it's the difference between paying a premium and paying nothing extra. 𝘚𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨: Layering the dressing at the very bottom of the jar, away from the delicate ingredients, is the classic "mason jar salad" trick from the meal-prep world — it's the whole reason this stays fresh and crunchy for days instead of turning into mush by day two.

I’ve been sitting with this journal prompt myself this week: What does "finding my light" mean to me? And honestly? My answer keeps changing. Some days “finding my light” means the quiet five minutes with my coffee before the house wakes up. Other days it’s the moment I stop apologising for taking up space and just… show up as me. It’s not one big lightning-bolt realization, it’s smaller than that, and it sneaks up on you in the most ordinary moments. That’s the thing about light, though. You don’t always see it directly, you notice what it touches. The way it falls across a room. The way you feel different after naming something true out loud. The way a hard season makes you appreciate an easy one. So today I’m turning the question over to you: 𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 “𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁” 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂? There’s no wrong answer here. It might be a person, a habit, a place, a version of yourself you’re still becoming. Grab a notebook (or just the comments box) and see what comes up. How to play: 1️⃣ Sit with the prompt for a minute, no overthinking, just notice what surfaces 2️⃣ Jot it down, even just a sentence or two 3️⃣ Share your reflection in the comments below I’ll go first in the comments, and I’d love to read yours. This is exactly the kind of reflecting we do together in Journal Jam, look out for our very first Journal Jam event coming in September. Drop your reflection on “Finding My Light” in the comments.