Welcome, you have now entered "The Library of my mind."
Finding her again
I truly believe there is beauty in every situation we find ourselves in. You simply have to open your heart enough to see it. Even in the things that break us. In fact, I have found that those are often the things that help us grow the most.
I lost not only who I was, but my business, my dreams, my marriage, everything I had worked so hard for, just gone. Not only because someone else didn't believe in me, but because I didn't believe in myself.
The last three years have been about finding her again. Not the version someone told me I was, or the version I used to be, but the one I was always meant to grow into.
Below are quotes from my world on Instagram. You may notice a theme: soft, romantic, almost like something out of a fairytale. Some people think it's strange, and I just laugh; the new, healing version of me loves when people think I'm a little weird. But here's the thing about me... when something hurts me, I have this way of turning into something beautiful.
Healing journey quotes
She stopped dreaming about the love she wanted and started writing the love her soul needed.
And somewhere in the process... she fell in love with herself.
Perhaps that's why my world is filled with castles, cottages, sunsets, and storybooks. Not because life has always felt magical, but because I learned that sometimes healing is the art of creating beauty where pain once lived.
I have this funny habit of explaining my healing through fairytales. Every season of my life seems to have had one. But this chapter? This is my Belle era. It took me a while to discover her, but somewhere along the way I realized I wasn’t waiting for a prince to save me. I was becoming the woman who found beauty in unexpected places, who chose curiosity over fear, and who slowly found her way home to herself. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more like Belle than I do right now.
And let's be real for a minute, I don't think a fairytale land is a bad place to be. I mean, small cottages, birds chirpy while the sun is shining, woodland creatures, and a handsome man serenading you with song. I'm not going to lie, that sounds like a vibe to me, and if that makes me delusional, so be it. Bring out the fairy godmother, have her fit me for the straitjacket, and then send me off in the pumpkin carriage, straight to the asylum.
When you finally meet the woman you fought so hard to become, protect her at all costs.
The Eras of healing
If you follow me on Instagram, you already know I’ve gone through many eras while healing.
Looking back, it’s actually been a fun way to see just how far I’ve come. Each post serves as a little timestamp, capturing who I was, what I was learning, and what chapter I was living through at the time.
It also gives you, the reader, a glimpse inside my mind. Every post is carefully thought out, and if you pay attention, it reveals far more than meets the eye. The imagery, the quote, the caption, the song choice—none of it is accidental. Together, they tell a story.
I hope you enjoy it too and inspires you through your own journey to becoming the best version of you.
She followed the light. Behind her, the old chapters closed softly. And somewhere beyond the evergreens, she felt it... the quiet pull of something... of someone... waiting for the version of her meant to live happily ever after.
If you want the full story, head to my Instagram @loveleighannmarie
There was a time I kept looking back…as if something behind me still had answers. But healing doesn’t live in the past. It lives in the moments where you choose yourself…even when it feels unfamiliar. I didn’t find myself all at once. I found her in pieces…in the stillness, in the writing, in the moments no one else saw. And somehow… that was enough to keep going.
I used to think strength meant staying… holding on longer than I should have. But that's not strength; it's keeping yourself small so you don't disrupt anyone else. It’s within the boundaries you set without explaining yourself. It’s in the moments you choose silence over proving a point. It’s in becoming someone you’re finally proud of… and not letting anything take her from you ever again.
Somewhere in the middle of everything falling apart…I started writing. Not because I had a plan, but because it was the only place I could be honest with myself. It became my way of understanding things I couldn’t say out loud. My way of turning pain into something that didn’t feel so heavy anymore.
Time doesn't rush. It moves with intentions. Like snow falling quietly, settling softly on the evergreens, like a blanket covering the earth, tucking it in to rest. While the world holds its breath, patiently waiting for spring to be brave enough to bloom.
Patience... Patience, honey... Patience, princess... PATIENCE!!! you stubborn bitch. I didn't matter what way I heard it or lack thereof hearing it, there was always this inner knowing that becoming the woman you were always meant to be takes time. And well, for someone that needs things done quickly, who needed answers like yesterday, patience was never something I had been good at. Even today I struggle with it. The pressure I feel to have all the answers today, and to have the blog up tomorrow, and the book done by next month. I have learned that moving with intention is usually a slow and steady game. Often the becoming can take a few seasons or even all the seasons repeated. When you move with intention, you allow yourself to find your purpose in this life and listen to what you are being called to create in a world that can help not only you but others who so desperately need your voice. Sometimes I still struggle because it feels unproductive, but while in the midst of healing, when our nervous systems are used to running on chaos, patience can feel like we are not reaching our goals fast enough. That can be hard to process. What I have learned is that sometimes you need to finish a few more chapters before the story is ready to be published.
You keep searching for the ending as if it would soften the middle. But stories like this are not meant to be spoiled. They are meant to unravel slowly... one aching, beautiful page at a time.