Love ya, Little Me

So, it’s Monday in Barcelona again.

Last Monday, I was walking into a casting hoping to get chosen.

This Monday, I’m sitting in a showroom in a silky robe between beautiful Italian outfits—grateful to be chosen.

On my walk to work this morning—work being getting paid to sit in said silky robe surrounded by fancy outfits—I called my little sister. I really love having a little sister. There’s something so beyond special about sharing a childhood, a life, with another girl. Talking to her and giving her advice is like hugging a younger version of myself.

Today, I got to wrap her in the hug that is navigating relationships—with others and with herself.

I’ve alluded to this before, but growing up for me and my sister was synonymous with learning how to be emotional lights for others. Taking care of ourselves always came second. Socializing meant minimizing conflict. We weren’t learning how to be, we were learning how to keep the peace.

And, as I’ve shared, the beautiful gift of my health journey taught me how to break this pattern. Unfortunately—but not unexpectedly—my little me is on her own health journey now.

But the truth is: life is all about how we orient ourselves.

It is a privilege to discover energetic misalignments in our bodies and interpret their cues—to use them as signals to return home to ourselves. Our bodies are brilliantly designed to prevent, attack, and heal all that threatens them, if we simply allow them to do their job: to alert us, to ask for our attention, to receive our care.

So while my sister spoke about her pain—rooted in relationships—I gave her the space to be heard. To let her words have a home.

And after giving her that emotional permission slip, I reminded her of something simple but powerful: Until we learn love from ourselves, we accept it in the form we were first given it—by the two people who raised us.

But when those two people never truly learned to love themselves before loving each other or raising us, we inherit their search for what love is. The little girls become caregivers before they become selves. They crash emotionally, break down what they thought love meant, go searching for the truth, and eventually learn to protect themselves against the very thing they were taught to give unconditionally.

So I reminded her: to heal her body, she must armor her mind.

She must place herself back at the center of her life, where she belonged all along.

She must protect that center with everything she has.

And, she will spend her life choosing herself—but through that choice, she will heal everything she touches.

She’ll become so proud, so aligned, so in tune, that she won’t need external protection.

She will be her own armor.

Her highest standard.

Her best friend.

Her love.

And anyone who dares to love her even more deeply will become sacred, not a savior.

So here’s to choosing ourselves.

To discovering the real thing: true, healing love.

To being our own best company and our own blueprint for what love should feel like.

To watching how life reflects back the beauty of that choice—when the most special people find you and love you effortlessly, like breathing life and laughter into you is their only goal.

And coolest of all?

When you get chosen for experiences like mine today—where you’re paid just to be you.