04—A month of taking risks, grounding myself and leaning into what life has to offer.
Making a conscious decision to move away from comfort and familiarity is always a scary thing, but sometimes doing what’s scary is the best thing you can do for yourself.
When something feels right, even if it’s uncertain, uncomfortable and unconventional, you just have follow your gut and move towards it❤️🔥
03—A month of animal therapy, spontaneous plans and glimpses of a life I want to keep living.
Just like that, a quarter of the year has passed. Between showing up for responsibilities and making space for small pockets of joy, most days were spent figuring things out along the way.
While I continue to navigate this unconventional life, I’m learning to give myself more grace, trust that things will unfold as they’re meant to and remember that to everything there is a season🌷
02—A month of savouring moments, moving between homes and realising what truly matters.
The shortest month of the year somehow felt long and expansive, like an unexpected stretch of time for thoughts to distil and quiet decisions to settle.
As I traverse between places that once felt opposing, I’m beginning to see how they hold me in different ways, finding appreciation in the mundane, in spaces and in people that feel like home.
01—A month of releasing what’s heavy, tuning out the noise and refocusing on my vision.
Taking time to slowly settle into healthier routines and recognising the strength and resilience that’s always been there. Reconnecting with people who return the same energy, absorbing new knowledge and making space for new creation.
Most importantly, coming back to myself and the things I thrive at, while acknowledging the people and environment that quietly hold me. Reminding myself that slow growth is still growth, and believing that what’s meant for me will always find its way back💫
December snippets—we’re already two weeks into the new year, but I’m only finding the space to look back on last year’s end now. In a season filled with gatherings and festivities, I found myself craving stillness and solitude, yet also feeling deeply homesick and wanting connection at the same time.
2025 was a pretty good year overall, but the last quarter came with unexpected challenges that completely knocked me off my groove. Going back to school, being constantly ill, navigating an unexpected relationship and transiting into a whole new chapter of life here. The year end carried an ache that came with a lot of internal wrestling and letting go of things, people and expectations I’d been holding onto.
Despite it all, there were still many moments I’m deeply thankful for, people I’m grateful for near and far, and I’m taking time to acknowledge them. As I step into the new year, I’m slowly picking myself back up and choosing to keep showing up even though it’s hard and I really want to give up.
I don’t know what 2026 holds for me but I want to move with more clarity and less heaviness, give energy to the people and things that truly matter and live a little more freely. I’m gonna tune out the noise, pursue life fiercely and trust that I’m standing on the brink of a breakthrough!!
It’s funny how having a yard was one of my concerns when moving into this house, with constant maintenance and upkeep needed. But this particular spot of the yard has slowly become a kind of escape and a safe space for me, being outside yet still inside.
Whatever I’m doing out here, I often find myself pausing, listening to the leaves rustling in the wind, the different birds chirping and the occasional dog barking wildly or my neighbour blasting techno. Somehow, it always makes me feel a deep sense of gratitude for where I am.
Not quite sure why I documented these moments over the past year, but looking back and piecing them together now, I realise this spot has quietly seen me through so much. Not just the changing weather seasons, but also the different seasons of life in Melbourne and in this house.
I’ll miss this spot so so much when it’s time to leave. One for the mems🥲
November notes—a tender mix of rediscovery and reconnection with myself, with this city and with the life I’m still growing into. Learning to honour both endings and beginnings, sitting with shifting emotions and letting small moments reinspire me🦋
Life has been throwing me so many curveballs lately that I haven’t had a minute to pause and do something nice for myself. Bought a tin of sardines weeks ago after seeing this trend going around and I finally decided I’ll make it today - miso seaweed butter on olive sourdough, oil from the sardines, lemon juice, salt and pepper😙👌✨
I often hesitate to document these slices of life, fearing I’ll be too conscious of the outcome or appear inauthentic and take away the experience of being in the moment. But I thought maybe it’ll be nice to look back on this down the line when I need a reminder to pause. So I went with it and decided to capture it today.
The paper towel I used was too thick which didn’t smoke the sardines that much and also I almost set a cloth on fire and scald myself from using a metal bowl to put the fire out, what was I thinking?! But it was so yum anyways, it nourished my body and soul and the point is I did it.
October bits—between what I know to be home and what feels like home, I came to an awareness of an unfamiliar kind of familiarity and a search for pieces of myself scattered across the places I call home.
While adjusting to shifting dynamics and reestablishing routines in this new season, I catch myself performing, presenting a composed version of who I think I should be. Even in moments of celebration and connection, I felt slightly out of place in it all, like everything had moved on, and maybe I have to. Feeling grateful yet uneasy, being present yet distant.
In trying to show up authentically again, I find myself sitting with a quiet ache, a longing for comfort, for belonging, for something or someone that feels like home again.
Can one ever truly know where home is? They say home is where the heart is, but what if your heart feels scattered too?
September fragments—to traverse between homes, to live between worlds, to stretch and expand, to seek the right place until it’s found, to be in the present and the here and now〰️
August checkpoints—hitting a milestone (1 year in melb wooo), grieving the end of an era and looking toward a new season (1 more year in melb wooo)
What seemed like one long, quiet transition was really a surreal, disorienting tension between endings and beginnings, where grief and growth was pulling at me in every direction all at once.
It was a painful struggle, wrestling with big emotions while still trying to show up for life, learning to accept change as it came and slowly finding steadiness to anchor myself again in small routines amidst the shifts.
I thought it would never feel better, but the resilience of humans bewilders me. Somehow it is possible to hold space for the duality of change, to grieve and hope at the same time, and even lean into what once felt like chaos as a strange kind of comfort. We’ll be okay❤️🩹
