ALICIA

She was supposed to be my forever friend. But people grow. And sometimes they grow out  of each other. There was no big fight. Just slow distance. Misunderstood texts. Vibes off. And finally, silence. I mourned it like a breakup. Because it was. What I learned: not every friendship ends because of betrayal. Some just expire. And that doesn’t make it less meaningful. It makes it human. I still love her, the her she used to be to me. I just love me more. And letting go was the

Words can rewire you. These did for me. "The Mountain Is You" by Brianna Wiest  — Taught me to stop abandoning myself. "Rest Is Resistance" by Tricia Hersey  — Gave me permission to slow down. "Women Who Run With the Wolves" by Clarissa Pinkola Estés  — Woke up something wild in me. "Attached" by Amir Levine  — Explained what my therapist tried to. "All About Love" by bell hooks  — A Bible on how to return to love. These books weren’t just highlights and underlines. They were

I used to have 37 tabs open. Spiritually and literally. Now, I use digital systems that feel like aromatherapy: calm, clean, easy to navigate. Here’s how I stay organized without over-functioning: Notion:  My life hub. Weekly planner, content calendar, goals. Everything lives here. Google Calendar:  Color-coded and shared with no one. iCloud Notes:  For ideas on the go. Recipes, captions, quotes. Email folders:  Create ones like "Hold," "Reply by Friday," and "Inspiration." T

Sunday is my sacred day. No errands. No calls. Just space to come back to myself. I start slow. Oil my scalp. Change my sheets. Reorganize one drawer. Read one chapter. I light incense and water my plants. I listen to a podcast that feeds me. I clean, not to be productive, but to create peace. I plan, not to be perfect, but to feel prepared. It’s my weekly love letter to my future self. And I guard it like a boundary, because it is.

I don’t plan to be busy. I plan to feel held. Every Sunday, I sit with my planner and my tea. I ask, “What needs my energy this week? What can wait?” I start with anchors—non-negotiables like dancing, movement, and writing time. Then soft structure: a few to-dos per day. Enough to feel steady. Not enough to feel suffocated. I leave room for life. For naps, surprises, and the divine detour. My calendar is color-coded: pink for rest, green for creativity, gold for money moves.

Before I write, plan, or create, I cook. Because eating well is how I remind my body I care. Here’s what grounded me this week: Sunday:  Bone broth miso soup with rice noodles, bok choy, and medium poached egg. A hug in a bowl. Monday:  Roasted veggie bowl with tahini dressing. Sweet potatoes, zucchini, red onion. Earthy and bright. Tuesday:  Coconut curry lentils over jasmine rice. It tasted like home. Wednesday:  Kale Caesar with crispy chickpeas and avocado. Crunchy, cream

Sometimes, life feels like it's spiraling in five tabs at once. When that happens, I go offline. I wash my sheets. I boil water. I get quiet enough to hear myself. I call it my soft reset. It starts with light. Candles, sunlight, or my bright lamp if the day is grey. Then music. Usually Cleo Sol. Maybe Snoh. No lyrics that pull too hard. Just enough to fill the silence. I pour something warm. Lately it’s ginger tea with raw honey and a splash of lemon. I pull out my journal a

I created this space the same way I make tea in the morning. With intention. Slowly, softly. One ritual at a time. Everything Alicia is my digital journal. My creative portfolio. My kitchen table and my living room floor. It holds the meals I cook, the things I learn, the shows I obsess over, and the stories I collect along the way. It’s where I unpack, express, reflect, and grow. This isn't a niche blog. It's a becoming. A place for soft structure and quiet ambition. For rou