What My Sick Days Taught Me About Real Rest (It’s Not What You Think)

This morning, before I’d even opened my eyes, I knew.Not from a calendar reminder or a “you’re due for a flare-up” ping. Just the weight of my own body. Heavy. Cement-heavy. Fire-in-my-veins heavy. Welcome to the delightful surprise party that is chronic illness. No...

Autumn in Stellenbosch: A Healing Season for Trauma Recovery

Discover how the beauty of autumn in Stellenbosch mirrors the trauma healing journey—with fire-red trees, grounding sensory experiences, and permission to slow down and let go.

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Kate

I’ve spent two decades navigating chronic illness, mental health, and self-recovery. This blog is where I share what’s real—no perfection, just honesty, growth, and community. You’re not alone here.

Weight Isn’t the Enemy. Silence Is.

Weight Isn’t the Enemy. Silence Is.

We’ve avoided the weight convo because it’s messy, painful, and loaded with shame. But not talking about it hasn’t helped. So let’s start telling the truth and stop treating our bodies like a problem to solve.

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Fatigue, Bugs, and a Midday Nap I’ll Never Get

Fatigue, Bugs, and a Midday Nap I’ll Never Get

A doctor once explained it like this: if someone without a chronic illness wants to understand what MS fatigue feels like, they’d need to stay awake and upright for three days straight. Then try to function like a normal human. That’s the starting line.

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Fuel the rebel research, buy me a cuppa ☕

Editor's Journal

Fatigue, Bugs, and a Midday Nap I’ll Never Get

Fatigue, Bugs, and a Midday Nap I’ll Never Get

A doctor once explained it like this: if someone without a chronic illness wants to understand what MS fatigue feels like, they’d need to stay awake and upright for three days straight. Then try to function like a normal human. That’s the starting line.

read more
The Quiet Feels Different Without Bugs

The Quiet Feels Different Without Bugs

My dog, Bugsy, is at my mum’s this weekend. He’s being absolutely spoiled, no doubt about that. She’s probably made him scrambled eggs and is reading him bedtime stories while feeding him snacks off a Royal Doulton plate. He’s living the high life. I know he’s happy. I know she adores having him. And he loves her too.

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