Hi Reader!

I spent last week on a family road trip from Denver to Santa Fe. I went with my sister, her husband and their kids, my parents, and my daughter, Kiara.

There are so many layers to a family trip.

There's what you're doing - swimming in the hot springs, talking to Native artisans about their wares, learning about Georgia O'Keefe. Trying to break up a fight between cousins. Crowding into the back of a car after a morning bakery visit, hands and lips sticky with cinnamon and sugar.

There's the emotions that run under the surface.

The love and joy I feel listening to Kiara and her cousin talk in the back seat of my car. The grief that I don't have a partner, a feeling that arises more when I'm with my parents and sister. The annoyance at my mom's judgement and my dad's lack of patience.

Then there is the past, always seeping through the cracks of the present.

Memories of road trips as a kid. Identities we only wear when we're together.

I like to see myself as a loving mom, an intuitive guide, and a strong woman who is finally figuring all this shit out.

But on family trips, other parts of me emerge. The jealous sister. The kid who feels invisible. The reactive daughter. And when I'm surrounded by other people without a moment to come back to myself, it can feel so raw and hard.

I returned last night, and I'm finally alone at my long wooden table, my dog Jorgen curled up next to my feet, trying to understand how to best love myself in this moment.

♊️ As a Gemini Sun and Mercury, I want to make cognitive sense of the whole thing. "Well, Pluto is square to your Venus right now, so of course wounds are coming to the surface. Family just brings up your shit. That's life."

♏️ As a Scorpio Moon, I want to sit in the intensity of it all. Big feelings, even hard ones, bring the buzz of aliveness.

♉️ My Venus in Taurus just wants to remember the beauty. The light glinting off the river while Kiara sat perched on a rock. The chili peppers hanging from the buildings. The purple and brown hills dotted with bushes.

I think this is how I can love myself best right now.

Noticing not just the complexity of the experience, but my multilayered response to it, and saying yes to it all. Yes to understanding. Yes to intensity. Yes to beauty.

When things feel hard and complicated, my default mode isn't saying yes to myself. It's the opposite. I usually try to figure out how I can be more fully healed. A better person. Someone who doesn't have all this baggage.

But these are the moments that I need my loving self the most. The jealous sister, the invisible kid, and the reactive daughter need love and validation. They need me to say, "I see you. This shit is hard. And that doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong."

How do you respond when things are messy and your most vulnerable, angry, sad parts come out? Do you try to ignore them? Push them away? Tell yourself if you were more healed this wouldn't be happening?

Whatever your default reaction is, it's 100% human. And I hope that in time, we can both learn to turn towards the parts of ourselves that are still young, confused, reactive, or in pain.

To accept that we may never be fully healed, but we're already deserving of deep love. Especially the wounded parts.

With gratitude,

Daniela

🎴 This Week's Tarot Pull:

Put your hand on your heart and ask "How can I best love myself right now?" Then pull a card by clicking below. 👇🏼