Roots of Balance Coaching Blog

There’s a special kind of ache that comes with drawing a line in the sand. Not the easy, meme-worthy “self-care” boundary where you turn off your phone or skip a meeting you didn’t want to go to anyway—but the trembling, heart-in-your-throat boundary that risks shifting the landscape of your relationships. The one that says: I love you, but I love me too. We talk a lot about boundaries as if they’re simple. Say no. Stand up for yourself. Guard your energy. But real boundaries

There’s a set of rules you’ve been living by—some you know, some buried so deep you mistake them for truth. Maybe you don’t even remember where they started. Maybe they sound like your mother’s voice, your third-grade teacher, your first heartbreak, your old church, the way your father sighed when you spoke too loud or took up too much space. These rules are sneaky. Don’t be too much. Don’t rock the boat. Don’t want more than you’re given. Don’t need. Don’t outshine. Don’t re

There’s a moment—a split second, really—when you feel the possibility of something more. You’ve made a plan. Set the intention. Maybe even bought the new journal, cleared a space on your calendar, or started telling your friends you’re finally doing the thing.  For a heartbeat, it feels real. And then, almost as quickly, the quiet sabotage creeps in. Suddenly, you’re “too busy.” The time disappears, or you get sucked into scrolling, snacking, rearranging your silverware drawe

Silent Tensions: A family's quiet divide reflects how toxic patterns can be subtle yet deeply impactful. Sometimes the most dangerous patterns in our lives are the ones we can’t—or won’t—see. Toxicity in relationships rarely starts out as glaring red flags; more often, it begins as a slow drift, a series of subtle shifts we justify or ignore until dysfunction becomes our new normal. Maybe it’s a friendship that drains you, a romantic partner who chips away at your confidence,

Amidst a sea of identical circles, a person sits, immersed in their own world, symbolizing the limitations of a comfort zone that obstructs the path to new opportunities. We all have those patterns—habits, thoughts, relationships, and routines—that we know aren’t working, but that somehow feel safer than the unknown. Maybe it’s the way you talk to yourself, the boundaries you let slide, or the stories you keep replaying about what’s possible for you. You tell yourself you’ll

Footprints in the sand mark the beginning of a journey to reclaim control and authority over your thoughts. There’s a particular quiet that arrives when the mind finally lets go—when the endless loops, the what-ifs, and the old stories pause, if only for a moment. It can feel disorienting, even vulnerable, to stand in that quiet space after so much noise. But this is where something new begins: the shift from living in the imaginings of the mind to actually experiencing the p