What I Needed Most During My Healing—And Couldn’t Find Online

I didn’t start Becoming U Wellness because I had all the answers. I started it because I was desperate for something I couldn’t find anywhere else.

When I first started healing, I wasn’t looking for a workbook, or a morning routine, or a life coach with a ring light and a perfectly color-coded trauma diagram. I was looking for something that didn’t exist yet: a space that felt safe, honest, and actually human. I didn’t need another “Ten Ways to Glow Up Your Nervous System.” I needed someone to say, “Same. This is hard. You’re not broken.”

Instead, I got a lot of well-lit wellness content. You know the kind: people doing breathwork on a mountaintop, journaling in matching linen sets, drinking water with sliced cucumbers like that’s going to fix generational trauma. I couldn’t relate. I was sitting on the floor of my bathroom crying into an old towel I should’ve thrown away three apartments ago.

I wasn’t looking for advice. I was looking for permission.
Permission to feel lost.
Permission to not be okay.
Permission to grieve things I didn’t have the words for yet.
Permission to exist—anxious, unsure, undone—and still be enough.

Every time I searched online, I found glossy versions of healing, or overly clinical ones, or advice that assumed I was already functioning. But what about the version of me who couldn’t remember the last time she ate a vegetable? Or the one who was running on caffeine, heartbreak, and sheer emotional chaos?

No one was writing to her. So I did.

This blog wasn’t created in a boardroom. It wasn’t tested by a marketing team. It was born in journal entries I never thought anyone would read. In breakdowns I didn’t post about. In those tiny, quiet moments when I chose—sometimes barely—to keep going.

What I needed most during my healing was a space that didn’t ask me to perform progress. I needed someone to tell me that healing can be boring, confusing, slow, and still valid. That growth doesn’t always look like breakthroughs—it often looks like brushing your teeth after a week of not brushing your teeth and calling that a win.

So if you’ve landed here in the middle of your own mess—hi. Welcome. I built this for both of us.

This isn’t a space where you have to be “better” to belong. You don’t need a trauma degree or a morning routine. You don’t need to journal every day or love kale. You just need to be real. And if all you did today was cry in your car, scroll for comfort, or lie face-down on your bed listening to sad music? Babe, that still counts.

You’re not behind. You’re not too much. You’re not the only one trying to find your footing.

You’re becoming. And this space was made for exactly that.