Newly Single
When the World Tilts Sideways
The world has tilted sideways, and nothing looks the same.
What can you lean on, when everything you thought you could depend on has come adrift?
Even the dreams you cherished most now seem tarnished, singed around the edges.
There’s an overwhelming sense of failure that sends your pulse racing toward panic.
But wait.
Only one dream — the one involving that person — has reached an impasse. Your dreams aren’t gone.
Look again, even through the veil of tears. Your dream is still warm. Still glowing beneath the dusting of embers.
Your dreams aren’t gone. Look again, even through the veil of tears.
Yes, some of the details may change. The you who steps into those dreams may change.
But that’s just your dream evolving — taking on a new shape.
What Must Come With You
In the quiet aftermath, the questions start to swirl:
“What did I do wrong?”
“Was there something I could have done?”
“If only I’d been more patient… kinder… more assertive…”
Whether you’re feeling more sad or angry — or swinging between the two — some kind of regret almost always shows up.
Sometimes, anger at the other person brings relief.
Other times, it turns inward as self-blame, dulling the ache of loss.
But underneath all that?
There’s the work of meeting your new reality. Of finding a way to come home to yourself.
The work of meeting your new reality is about finding a way to come home to yourself.
That’s no small task, especially when your sense of self has been shaken.
Even if it was you who ended the relationship, it can still feel disorienting.
You may still find yourself thinking:
“Why is this happening?”
“Is it me?”
“I don’t understand.”
And all the while, life keeps moving.
You’re meant to show up at work, make plans with friends, keep everything ticking.
But everything feels… flat. Like you’re going through the motions in someone else’s life.
You find yourself hiding, feeling like a burden. The world seems drained of colour.
And it’s hard — so hard — to picture a future that feels worth moving toward.
So let’s start here:
Not with solutions, not with pressure. But with the question that’s quietly waiting underneath it all:
What matters enough to bring with you?
Imagine a metaphorical suitcase.
If you could pack it with the things you don’t want to lose — your values, your insights, your spark — what would you take?
That’s where we begin.
The Wish Under the Ashes
Somewhere inside the questions and the ache — there’s a longing.
Even if it’s quiet. Even if it feels out of reach.
Supposing this misery could begin to fade… what would I have instead?
What would take its place?
Maybe you don’t have words for it yet. Maybe you can’t even imagine feeling different.
But there is a seed there. A seed of a wish.
Let’s say it gently:
You don’t have to know what you want yet. But we can begin to listen for it.
Like catching a scent in the air… like recognising your own voice in the distance.
You don’t have to know what you want yet. But there is a seed there. A seed of a wish.
What would it feel like, even for a moment, to step into a world where the ache has softened?
What would your body feel like, there?
What would your heart say?
These questions aren’t meant to pressure. They’re an invitation.
The Eyes of Love
What if beneath the ache for romantic love, there’s another ache — to be met with tenderness.
What if what you crave is to be seen —
seen with the Eyes of Love.
The kind of gaze that sees what is strong in you.
The kind of gaze that sees what is still beautiful, even in your sorrow.
The kind of gaze that knows what you carry, and doesn’t flinch.
What if what you crave is to be seen — seen with the Eyes of Love.
Imagine yourself being looked at that way.
What would let you believe that love like that is still possible?
What if you could see yourself with those eyes?
One woman told me,
“If I felt there was love around me, the kind I need right now… I could finally settle. I could rest up. And then, maybe, I could feel less anxious about What’s Next.”
What You’d Wish for a Friend
If someone you loved was in your shoes right now —
What would you wish for her?
Could you offer even a sliver of that to yourself?
You don’t have to believe it yet. You only have to begin.
You Don’t Have to Do This Alone
How do I know what this time can feel like?
Because I, too, have walked through a world turned inside out.
A world where everything felt too raw to touch without erupting into tears.
I know the ache of curling into yourself, certain you’re too downcast to be good company.
I know the quiet heroism of holding yourself together so others won’t worry.
And I know how much strength it takes to keep showing up — even when everything inside says hide.
It takes strength and quiet heroism to keep showing up — even when everything inside says hide.
That’s why I hold a nest of tenderness in my coaching work.
A space where your ache is welcome.
A space where you don’t have to perform your healing.
A space where you can rest, and then reorient.
Because this isn't about rushing to fix yourself.
It’s about listening to what’s stirring beneath the grief.
It’s about letting love — real love, grounded love — reach in and lay a balm on the sore spots in your soul.
What’s Possible When You’re Held
Here’s what I’ve seen in the women I’ve worked with:
One said, “At first, I was just hoping for support through a hard time. But what I got was something deeper — a space to rediscover what I want from life. I wasn’t even dreaming when we started. And now… I’m dreaming again.”
Another said, “I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. Stronger. Clearer. Like I’ve come home.”
They didn’t get there by being told what to do.
They got there by being met, held, and gently guided —
so they could hear their own voice again.
In our sessions, you are the expert on your life.
I bring the process, the presence, the questions that unlock what’s already inside you.
What emerges is not just insight — but ownership.
Not just clarity — but confidence.
“I’ve lived with a Mean Girl in my head for years,” one client said.
“But she’s not a monster anymore. She’s an ally. A protector. I finally have my own back.”
Ready to Step In?
You don’t have to know the whole path.
You only need to know that something in you is ready for a change — even if it’s as small as a breath of relief. A softening around the edges of pain.
You might still be spinning in questions like:
“Will anyone love me again?”
“Is it too late for me?”
“Have I missed my chance?”
Those questions are tender. They deserve care, not silencing.
And they don’t have to define what comes next.
Something in you is ready for a change — even if it’s as small as a breath of relief. A softening around the edges of pain.
I’m here to walk beside you as you gather your bearings, gently unpack your grief, and begin to imagine life — your whole life — from a place of sovereignty and self-regard.
“I didn’t want to do this alone,” one woman said.
“And what I got wasn’t just support — it was a return to myself.”
If that kind of companionship sounds like something you’re hungry for, let’s begin with a conversation.
No pressure. No assumptions.
Just a space where you get to bring what’s real for you — and be met there.
🌿 Where to from here?
If something stirred in you while reading — even the tiniest shift — you’re already moving.
There’s no one way forward from here. Just what feels possible, or intriguing, or true enough to try.
Here are a few ways to keep walking:
Book a Nesting Call
A soft space to land — no pressure, no performance. Just bring what’s real, and we’ll begin there.
Meet Margarita
Learn more about who I am, how I hold space, and what soul-work looks like in practice.
Keep reading
You might find more resonance in the Relate Everywhere series — reflections on connection, heartbreak, healing, and finding your way home.
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