Relatable Words Blog

I want to share something deeply personal with you today. Over the years, I’ve discovered a quiet, powerful force that has helped me...

There was a day when the weight of it all nearly broke me, when getting out of bed felt impossible and hope seemed like a distant memory. Yet in that darkness, something small, a whisper inside, a reminder that I was still here, pushed me forward. I realized survival wasn't enough. I had to choose to live, to breathe, to rise. That was the day I found my will to go on.

In this heartfelt blog post, Kathy reflects on the powerful symbolism of a rocking chair and how it became a source of healing during a difficult time in her life. After going through a painful divorce, Kathy found solace and comfort in the simple act of sitting in a rocking chair on her porch, journaling and reflecting on her journey.

Step into the Forbidden Room – a space built not of walls, but of silence, secrets, and survival. We both needed it, yet neither of us could breathe inside it. This blog isn't just a story – it's a mirror for anyone who's ever hidden pain behind locked emotional doors. What happens when you open that door? What truths wait on the other side? Let's find out – together.

We often speak of heartbreak as something caused by others. But what happens when we are the ones who break our own hearts? When we abandon ourselves to be everything for everyone else–until there’s nothing left? This is my letter to the woman I neglected, dismissed, and silenced. This is a letter to me. Maybe it’s a letter to you, too.

In this lighthearted and nostalgic post, Kathy takes readers on a walk down memory lane to her grandma’s house in the city – a place filled not with cookies or pies, but with laughter, love, and the unmistakable pfft-pfft soundtrack of Grandma’s every step. Through humorous recollections of tea times, Sunday dinners, and giggle-filled moments involving floral dresses and unexpected sound effects, Kathy reminds us that even in the midst of life’s pain and trauma, joy still lin