When the House is Quiet

I sat on the couch today and realized I could just… sit there.
No one needed snacks.
No one needed rides.
No one needed me in that moment.

It’s the third summer my kids have gone away, but this time it’s for five weeks. The first time, I hadn’t been alone for more than three days in fourteen years. That realization hit me like a freight train back then, equal parts grief and “holy shit, who even am I without being needed 24/7?”

Last year, I had a friend staying with me, so it was a more social summer where I could lean into that aspect of mt life.

This year, it’s landing differently.

This time, I was aware of the wave. I knew the crash of quiet, the awkward dance of freedom, and eventually… the clarity that comes when all the distractions fall away.

This year, I’m not dating anyone. I have no expectations, except to lean in and do the work. To “hustle” and to rest.

To flow with my femininity. To nurture myself and to show up and do what I have to. It’s, of course, full of duality.

I spent the past five months fully working for myself. Building my brand. Creating containers and programs, and still within that, I needed to take a part-time job.

My nervous system needed to know that I could go in when I wanted to and make money when I needed it.

My ego fought me, but my higher self knows better.

So this summer… there is no agenda. Just space.

This week’s podcast episode is one of those off-the-cuff, no-plan conversations where I just needed to speak from my heart. No notes. No outline. Just me and the mic.

Because sometimes, that’s what healing looks like.

Not perfect bullet points or breakthrough moments.
But messy, heart-wide-open reflections.
Real-time processing.
Making meaning as I speak it out loud.