Behind The Mirror
THE MIRROR BEHIND THE METHOD
Before the movement, there was a mirror.
T-flection™ began as a conversation between body and awareness — a practice born from silence, reflection, and motion.
Behind the Mirror is where that conversation continues.
Each issue explores the pillars, the practices, and the lived moments that shaped the method — the reflections that became Manifest in Motion™.
These writings are not about perfection; they are about presence.
Step inside the reflection.
Feel what built the method.
Move with what mirrors you back.
ISSUE 06 - Discomfort is Direction
Opening Reflection
The interesting thing about life is that it is constantly asking us to grow.
Once you realize that you are here to co-create a life of excitement, abundance, and meaning… to grow into your fullest potential, everything begins to shift.
You start looking at what’s happening in your life not as something happening to you, but as reflection and feedback. You get the opportunity to live this one beautiful life. And when things aren’t going well, in one area or many, it isn’t punishment. It’s an invitation. An opportunity for expansion. For growth. For choosing differently. This is often the hardest part. Because it asks us to take responsibility.
At the end of the day, we are responsible for ourselves and for the life we are currently living. Once I committed to fully living, and to taking an active role in creating the life I wanted, I began, slowly, consistently, working with my nervous system. God, the Universe, Source… none of it asks you to have all the answers. But it does ask you to quiet enough to listen. To feel the pull. The nudge. The small voice guiding you forward and then to move with intention.
That movement often requires releasing people, patterns, systems, and old versions of who you were. Not because they were wrong but because they no longer fit. And in that release, you make space for the version of you that carries passion in her soul. When you live from that place, you’re not just changing your own life, you’re giving others permission to do the same.
The universe will always ask you to release something. A moment that stirs you. A wound that resurfaces. A discomfort that asks more of you than you expected.
No matter how far we’ve come, life keeps inviting us into growth, not to break us, but to shape us. And sometimes that invitation doesn’t arrive as clarity or excitement. Sometimes it arrives as tension. As resistance. As the quiet realization that something no longer fits.
This week reminded me that discomfort isn’t a detour, it’s direction. Doubt isn’t failure, it’s feedback. And the moments that shake us are often recalibrating us toward deeper alignment, even when we can’t yet see the full picture. This is where the beauty and the pain coexist. The becoming and the undoing happen at the same time. The miracle of being human, evolving, releasing, and rising again within the same breath.
SECTION 1 — Release Practice: Letting Go Without Needing Certainty
Release doesn’t always look dramatic.
Sometimes it’s subtle, a loosening of expectations, a softening of control, a willingness to stop forcing answers before they’re ready to arrive. This week, release looked like reminding myself that I don’t need to have everything figured out to be aligned. That clarity doesn’t come before movement it often comes because of it.
I released the idea that discomfort means I’m doing something wrong.
I released the urge to overanalyze what simply needs to be felt.
I released the belief that growth should feel linear or graceful.
Instead, I let myself be shaped.
Not broken… shaped.
I release so I can return to myself.
I release so I can rise in alignment.
This is the ritual.
This is the work.
SECTION 2 — Movement Ritual: Letting the Body Lead
There are seasons when the mind feels loud. When thoughts pull you back into old patterns, even when your heart knows you’re ready for more. When logic spins and fear disguises itself as reason. But the body holds a different kind of wisdom.
Movement is where the noise settles.
Movement is where truth rises.
Movement is where the nervous system remembers who you’re becoming instead of who you’ve been.
This week, I remembered that I don’t have to think my way forward. I can move my way forward.
One intentional repetition.
One softened inhale.
One choice where my body leads instead of my fear.
Momentum isn’t created by force. It’s created by safety. By showing the body, again and again, that this direction is allowed, even when it’s unfamiliar.
SECTION 3 — Reflection Ritual: Gratitude for the Now
Today’s reflection isn’t about what I’m working toward.
It’s about what I’m grateful for right now. I’m grateful for discovering an identity that belongs to me, my own passions, curiosities, and growth. Not separate from motherhood, but something that nourishes my soul and allows me to show up more present, more grounded, more alive. I’m grateful for the honor of being a mother. For raising two humans who are learning to trust themselves, chase their dreams, and move toward what lights them up. And I’m grateful for the quiet guidance along the way, the knowing that I am supported, held, and gently redirected, even when I don’t yet have the full picture. Reflection doesn’t pull us backward. It anchors us into enoughness, so we can move forward without grasping.
Closing Reflection
Behind the mirror, this is what lives: Release. Movement. Reflection. Not as boxes to check, but as rituals we return to. Again and again. As we become who we’re here to be. This is the work. And it’s happening, even when it’s quiet.
ISSUE 05 - Becoming the Woman Who Chooses the First Step
Opening Reflection
There’s a moment in every transformation where you don’t know exactly what to do, where to start, or what the path ahead will look like. And in that uncertainty, it’s easy to freeze. We stay in the same patterns because they’re familiar. Predictable. Safe to our nervous system, even when they keep us far from the life we want.
Dreams don’t disappear. They just collect dust while we wait for the perfect clarity, the perfect plan, the perfect moment. But what actually changes everything is far simpler: one aligned shift at a time. Waking up earlier. Choosing a mirror word to anchor who you want to become. Walking in the evening. Letting your body feel safe in a direction you’ve never moved before.
Before T-flection™ had a name, before Lagree, before teaching, before YouTube, I started small. 5am wake up calls. Walking outside. Letting movement shake loose the thoughts that kept me stuck. One tiny shift opened my body. That openness opened opportunities. And those opportunities became the foundation of everything I’ve launched today. It was never about having the answers. It was about creating enough internal spaciousness for possibility to feel exciting, or at the very least, worth exploring.
SECTION 1 — MANIFEST STEP - The First Brave Shift
“Every micro-decision counts.”
These past weeks, that looked like waking up early, filming before sunrise, learning new apps, teaching my body a new rhythm of consistency, not because I “had the time,” but because I’m done waiting for conditions to be perfect. When the house is quiet, I create. When my kids are at school, I optimize. When resistance shows up, I move anyway. This is the season of manifesting by becoming, not by waiting. The woman I’m becoming doesn’t hope for momentum. She creates it.
SECTION 2 — Nature Alignment: Opening the Body to Possibility
I’ve always felt environments deeply. Heavy lighting, stale air, closed rooms, my body responds instantly. So this week, I kept my back doors open. Let the cool air in. Cracked the windows when it rained.
Even science says it matters:
• Indoor air can be 2–5× more polluted
• Fresh airflow calms the nervous system
• Natural light regulates mood and circadian rhythms
But the truth is, I feel it before I ever read it. Fresh air opens me. Natural light recalibrates me. Rain reminds my body how to breathe again. This is my alignment ritual this week, creating the internal environment my future needs.
SECTION 3 — Elevation Ritual: Receiving the Woman I’m Becoming
Momentum is built in the moments we overlook. Every early morning. Every filmed clip. Every tiny act of courage. Every moment of resistance I moved through. Not as pressure, but as evidence. Evidence that my body is learning a new identity. Evidence that I can hold more. Evidence that I’m becoming the woman I once only imagined. But evolution has a quiet side, too.
When the adrenaline fades…
When the filming is done…
When the house settles into stillness…
That’s when fear, excitement, and surrender all sit together. That’s when your nervous system catches up to your courage. That’s when you learn what’s intuition, and what’s an old identity trying to pull you back. And in all of this, motherhood is its own mirror. I’m not the same woman my kids were born to. My daughter met a different version of me than my son did. They evolve and so do I. Children remind us of something adults forget… Magic still exists. Impossible dreams aren’t impossible. Life isn’t meant to happen to us, we’re meant to co-create with every rise, fall, and in-between moment. Even our frustrations with them are reflections of the places we feel stuck or unmet. This week, my elevation ritual is simple… Receiving the woman I’m becoming. Letting the small wins register. Letting my body hold the expansion without shrinking back into old safety.
Closing Reflection
You don’t need to know the whole path. You just need one aligned step, one that tells your body, and the universe, “I’m ready to move.” And when your body feels safe enough to stay open, opportunities don’t just appear… They recognize you.
Sunday Song
Let this track guide you deeper into your reflection tonight:
🎵 “Awake” — Tycho
ISSUE 04 - When Healing Softens… And Becoming Begins
Reflection
There’s a moment in every woman’s healing when the story stops being about what she walked through and starts becoming about who she is now. The reflection in the mirror changes. The way you carry yourself changes. There’s a quiet confidence, a spark of excitement, a pride in who you are in this exact moment and an anticipation for who you’re becoming.
A shift happened for me. Instead of movement being the thing that pulled me out of pain, it started becoming the practice that moved me into a new embodiment of myself. Movement became a catalyst… pushing my comfort zone not just physically, but mentally… into the next evolution of who I knew I could be.
My conversations shifted too. They stopped circling divorce, survival, and healing, and started turning toward what’s next… new ideas, new joy, new possibilities. Movement wasn’t just the vehicle that helped me process the past anymore. It became the place where my manifestations, dreams, and excitement could expand. Where my energy gave those dreams breath, direction, and a heartbeat into the Universe… allowing my intentions to be met with guidance and signs.
Movement became the space where my nervous system felt safe enough to dream. Safe enough to imagine a life I hadn’t lived yet. Safe enough to soften the fear of stepping into it and powerful enough to give me the energy to move toward it. When my body felt anchored and regulated, my desires finally had room to grow.
Looking in the mirror started to feel different too. My words no longer felt disconnected from my reflection. I didn’t see a woman trying to return to who she once was. I saw a woman stepping into who she was always meant to be. My mirror word wasn’t just a moment of embodiment as I wrote it. I felt connected to it before the pen even touched the paper. I wasn’t reminding myself who I wanted to become… I was living in the energy of it.
Now I write words for expansion, not just healing. For the next version of me that is arriving with strength. For honoring who I was while releasing the parts that no longer serve my future. There was a time when my only dream was to feel safe and at home with my kids as a single mom. I’ll always honor that chapter, but I’ve outgrown that dream. As I healed old wounds, new desires started coming in. Bigger dreams. Wider horizons. A calling toward a life filled with growth and expansion.
I wasn’t thinking about the past anymore. I wasn’t remembering what hurt. I wasn’t trying to convince myself I was healed. Healing had stopped being my anchor. Becoming had taken its place. Because once your nervous system feels safe, your identity is allowed to expand. And that’s where I am now… living in a body that’s no longer bracing for impact, but finally open to possibility. Not rebuilding what was lost, but becoming what was never allowed to exist.
Behind the mirror now, I don’t see what broke me. I see what shaped me. I see the identity that rose from a foundation I never thought I’d rebuild. I see a woman who didn’t just come back… she returned to herself… with a fire and hunger for possibilities she can’t even imagine yet.
And if you’re reading this, maybe you’re in your own becoming too. Maybe there’s a part of you whispering a truth your mind hasn’t caught up to yet. You’re not who you were. You’re not living in the chapter you survived. You’re standing at the threshold of the life you’re meant to live. And sometimes all it takes is one breath… one moment of presence… one reflection in the mirror to realize:
You’re no longer becoming her.
You are her.
SECTION 1 — Mirror Word: Becoming the Woman I didn’t Recognize Yet
“There was a day I looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself… not because I was still broken, but because I was finally becoming her.”
Expansion:
There’s a moment in healing when the mirror stops reflecting the version of you who survived and begins reflecting the woman you’re becoming. I remember the exact morning mine shifted. I didn’t see the tired version of me anymore, the one who had been holding so much for so long. I saw a softness in my face, a strength in my posture, a steadiness in my eyes that felt unfamiliar… but true.
I hadn’t “arrived,” but I had stepped into a new frequency. The woman reclaiming her power. The identity I had been quietly rebuilding. The version of me that felt like home. Not because she matched who I was, but because she matched who I was meant to be.
The Mirror Word Ritual became the bridge between the two. One word anchoring me back into the energy I was growing into. One reminder that identity doesn’t shift overnight… but it does shift.
Present moment:
This week, I felt that same recognition again. The mirror didn’t show a woman trying to heal, it showed a woman expanding. A woman living in her becoming, not reaching for it.
SECTION 2 — Movement Ritual: The First Step Back Into Myself
“Movement became my proof that healing doesn’t wait for permission.”
Expansion:
There was a season when everything in my life felt paused, except the part of me that still chose to move. Movement became the anchor I didn’t even realize I was rebuilding myself on. Not intense workouts, not perfect routines… just the decision to move my body when everything else felt heavy.
Every walk, every class, every breath was a declaration that I wasn’t done. That I still had a say in who I was becoming. Movement gave me access to strength long before I felt emotionally strong. It gave me direction long before I had clarity. It gave me breath long before my life made sense again.
Healing didn’t wait for the paperwork, the timeline, or the closure. My body started healing the moment I moved.
Present moment:
This week, movement reminded me again that identity is shaped in motion. Every time I moved, I felt the next version of me rising with a little more certainty, a little more energy, a little more truth.
SECTION 3 — Movement Ritual: Reclaiming My
SECTION 3 - Reflection Ritual: The Moment the Past Made Sense
“Looking back now, none of it was wasted.”
Expansion:
Reflection used to feel like reliving… replaying memories, analyzing pain, trying to make sense of what happened. But with time, reflection became something different. It became clarity. Compassion. Understanding.
When I looked back on past holidays, past seasons, past versions of me, I realized something I couldn’t see then: I wasn’t falling apart. I was forming. Even in the years that felt heavy, I was being shaped. Even in the years that felt hopeful, I was learning to trust myself again. Even in the years where I was simply surviving, I was laying the foundation for the woman I am now.
None of it was wasted. Every chapter had a purpose. Every version of me was carrying a piece of the woman I’m stepping into today.
Present moment:
This week, reflection didn’t take me backward, it reminded me how far forward I’ve come. It reminded me that becoming doesn’t erase the past… it redeems it.
Sunday Song
Let this track guide you deeper into your reflection tonight:
🎵 ‘Experience” — Ludovico Einaudi
ISSUE 03 - The Steps and Movement that saved me… Before I knew where I was going.
Opening Reflection
I can still remember wheeling that stationary bike out of the playroom and into the family room, the same bike I’d asked my parents for the Christmas before. The same bike I had tried, so many times, to get on and ride… only to be met with resistance or comments that made it impossible to get a full workout in peace. But this time was different. This time, my phone was dinging with texts, from my ex, from legal matters, from people checking in, and the only thing that quieted my mind, body, and thoughts was the steady rhythm of my feet on the pedals or the pavement outside. Movement wasn’t something I had to force. Movement became the constant my body craved. The only place where my mind and nervous system could meet at the same pace and feel safe enough to explore the emotions I could barely name. It became my home base. A place to find myself again inside a world I had created but could no longer recognize. A world the woman I truly was would have never allowed herself or her children to live in. And so it became my priority not just to survive it, but to understand how I got there, move through it, and begin creating a life for the woman who not only wanted the best for her children… but finally understood she deserved the best for herself.
As my body moved, so did everything inside me. The helplessness. The anger. The fear. The sadness. The determination. My heart rate, my pedal cadence, the quickened breath, the gasps for air. All of it created space for me to feel what was real and also remember that I was moving toward something.
Every night, I reflected on the same truth: No matter what chaos lived in my life that day, I still chose to move, to feel, to release, to grow. And in that choice, I could be proud, proud of the woman I had been, proud of the woman I was in that moment, and proud of the woman I was manifesting into.
SECTION 1 — Movement Ritual: The First Place My Body Felt Safe
“There was a season when movement wasn’t a ritual… it was survival.”
Expansion: There are moments in life when your body tells the truth long before your mind can. When the fear, the heartbreak, the uncertainty feel too heavy to name. But your body knows how to carry it in motion. Every pedal stroke, every step, every gasp for air became a place where I could breathe again. Not to work out, but to stay upright. Movement didn’t just strengthen me… it held me. It was the first space where my nervous system could release what I was too overwhelmed to process. Every ride was a quiet declaration: I’m still here. I’m still moving. I’m still becoming.
Present moment: This week, movement reminded me once again why it’s the foundation of everything I teach. It remains the place where clarity rises, where my truth returns, and where the woman I am becoming feels the most real.
SECTION 2 — Reflection Ritual: Listening Instead of Analyzing
“Reflection isn’t analyzing your emotions… It’s meeting them.”
Expansion: For a long time, reflection meant spiraling. Trying to think my way into clarity when my mind was already exhausted. It wasn’t until I paired reflection with movement that something shifted. In those quiet minutes after my body softened, I finally had access to truths that didn’t live in my thoughts at all, they lived in my breath, my chest, my pulse. Reflection became a gentle homecoming. A space where I no longer forced answers, but allowed them. Where I listened to what my body had been whispering, waiting for me to slow down long enough to hear it.
Present moment: This week, a lot of clarity surfaced. Answers I had been reaching for mentally showed up effortlessly when I gave myself stillness. Reflection continues to be the doorway back to myself not to fix, but to understand.
SECTION 3 — Manifest Step: The Decision That Changed My Life
“I don’t know where this will lead, but I can’t stay where I am.”
Expansion: Before T-flection, before the pillars, before the community, there was a single moment in 2021 when I finally chose myself. Not loudly. Not publicly. Quietly. Desperately. That one whisper became the moment my entire life began shifting. Not because I knew the path… I didn’t. Not because I felt ready… I didn’t. But because I honored the truth that staying the same was more painful than beginning again. This is the heart of the Manifest Step: a tiny action that carries the weight of an entirely new life.
Present moment: This week reminded me that I am still taking that step every day. Every choice aligned with who I am becoming, not who I used to be, continues to shape the future I’m walking into.
Closing Reflection
This week reminded me that transformation begins in the smallest moments. A reflection, a step, a breath, a decision to want something different. You don’t need to know the entire path, or even the full vision of who you’ll become when you arrive. You only need to follow the aligned actions you feel pulled toward. Begin responding as the version of you who already exists on the other side.
Let that identity move through your choices, your relationships, your conversations, your career shifts. Because the moment you start acting from that embodied frequency, life begins aligning with you in ways that build real momentum. The life you’re calling in… is always just one movement away.
Sunday Song
Let this track guide you deeper into your reflection tonight:
🎵 “Light Me Up” — Ingrid Michaelson
Holiday Reflection: The Moment I Chose Myself
A Behind the Mirror Seasonal Edition
Preface
The holidays stir something different in all of us. Even if your life looks nothing like mine, I hope this reflection finds the part of you that’s growing through something quietly, bravely, and in your own timing. Wherever this season meets you, may these words land gently.
As the holidays approach, I’m reminded that this season isn’t just Christmas lights and celebration. It’s emotional. It’s layered. It’s a time when the past meets the present, sometimes gently… sometimes painfully.
For me, the holidays hold the moment that changed the entire trajectory of my life.
December 11th, 2021.
A date that will forever split my life into “before” and “after.” A date that became the beginning of my healing. That night, I made the hardest, most transformative decision I have ever made. I asked my ex-husband to leave.
I remember sleeping across the door with my babies in my room, praying he wouldn’t come back. That moment cracked something open, not just fear, but truth. It became the doorway to the woman I was meant to become.
Ever since, the holidays have held more than celebration. They’ve held growth. Grief. Reflection. Rebirth. And a deeper happiness than I ever believed was possible.
Because the universe doesn’t grow us through ease. It grows us through small whispers, messages that keep returning, and finally a pain we can no longer silence.
Pain has many origins. Our choices, someone else’s choices, or life itself. But whatever its source, pain eventually becomes a threshold. A moment of truth. A place where we choose whether to stay as we are or rise into who we’re becoming.
The holidays have their own kind of magic. A softness. A reminder of what matters. Seeing the season through your children’s eyes is one of the greatest gifts of adulthood. But my first Christmas without my children… that morning ended in tears. Saying goodbye to them after the holidays was one of the hardest moments of my life.
Yet when the house grew quiet again, something shifted. In the stillness, I felt a small, steady voice rising inside me. A voice I had ignored for years. A voice that belonged to the younger version of me, the child who still believed in magic, hope, and new beginnings.
So instead of drowning in the sadness of not having my kids with me, I chose her. I chose to nurture the girl inside me. To pour into my healing, my mental health, my body, my spirit, and my truth. Because when we return to ourselves, our joy, our needs, our soul, the world finally gets the real us.
Our children, our friends, our passion, our work… they all receive the version of us who is alive, present, and becoming.
So this holiday season, here is my wish for you… If you’re in a season of healing, transition, or unknown… get quiet. Return to yourself. Connect to the child inside you, who once believed anything was possible. Let your quirks shine. Let your dreams breathe again. Allow yourself to feel joy without needing permission. Choose to live from that embodied space. Not from the fear of the unknown, the weight of your circumstances, or the pain of what feels uncertain.
Because it’s in that energy, joy, safety, curiosity, that we begin to manifest our truest life… no matter what the mirror is reflecting back right now.
If something in these words touched you, trust that it’s guiding you somewhere true. Here’s to choosing ourselves, softening where life asks us to, and rising into who we are becoming, together.
Wishing you a season filled with softness, truth, and the kind of magic that rises from within.
Holiday Song
🎵 “Grown-Up Christmas List” — Amy Grant
ISSUE 02 - The Closet That Held My Past… and the Woman Who Outgrew It
Opening Reflection
It’s funny how we hold on to things that no longer serve us. Items, jobs, rituals, the way we see ourselves, even relationships. One day I felt an intense urge to empty my closet. Not to reorganize, to release. I packed away every single piece of clothing I had worn during dating, my marriage, my pregnancy, and the days after filing. Every pull off the hanger, every toss into a bag, was filled with heartbreak and strength. As I touched each item, I could remember the exact emotion, the words spoken to break me, the moments designed to shrink me. And yet… with every dress, top, skirt, even the bedding on the bed that no longer felt like home, I took my power back. My confidence back. My heart back. With each discard, I was rewiring myself, physically and mentally, to align with the woman who refused to let her light die.
Walking into the store to buy my first new outfit felt like a declaration. A signal to my body and my future that we were moving, both literally and energetically, into our next chapter. I was no longer choosing clothes to hide. I was choosing them with intention, wearing them with pride, and moving in them with conviction. Every piece became an energetic alignment, a physical testament to who I was becoming, and a reminder to the woman who once hid: we’re not hiding anymore.
As my closet slowly filled with new pieces, the pages of my journal filled with letters to myself, to the little girl whose reflection I now see in my daughter and son, to the woman who kept trying to be “less” to make things better, and to the future version of me who already knew her own strength. This transformation became bigger than just my comeback. It became a reminder to anyone who feels lost that the way home is found through yourself — not the version others want you to be. Because when you return to your own truth, you uncover your connections, passions, gifts, and brilliance. And the world needs your light… the impact that only you can create.
SECTION 1 — Release Practice: The Closet Clean-Out
“One night I emptied my entire closet. Not to redecorate, to release. I let go of clothes that belonged to an old identity.”
Expansion: Sometimes healing begins in the body before it ever reaches the heart and mind. There comes a moment when your hands touch something you’ve outgrown, and your whole being whispers, “Its time.” Clearing my closet wasn’t about clothes. It was the closing of a chapter, a release of the woman who survived so the woman who was ready to live could finally step forward.
Present moment:
This week, I honored that same instinct within myself. The one that knows when something no longer holds my future. I allowed myself to let go, to make space, to breathe into what I’m becoming.
SECTION 2 — Reflection Ritual: Letters I’ll Never Send
“I began writing letters to my future self. Not to mail, but to release into the universe.”
Expansion: Some truths need to be spoken in ink before they are ever spoken aloud. Writing letters to the versions of me who stayed, who broke, who rebuilt wasn’t about sending them. It was about releasing them. Those letters became a mirror, reflecting back the truth that becoming isn’t a single moment, but a quiet series of forgivenesses.
Present moment: This week, I let myself pause long enough to hear what my heart still needed to say. I wrote without expectation, letting each word soften a part of me that had been holding on too tightly .
SECTION 3 — Elevation Ritual: Gratitude as My New Frequency
“I used to believe manifestation lived in the wanting, now I know it’s about feeling thankful for what already found you, gratitude became my elevation, the energy that kept me rising.”
Expansion: I once believed manifestation lived in the wanting. Now I know it begins with recognizing what already found me. Gratitude lifted me out of survival and into expansion, teaching me that elevation ins’t loud, its the gentle, steady rise that happens when your soul finally feels safe.
Present moment: This week, I named the things I once prayed for that now live in my everyday life. I let gratitude shift my frequency again, reminding me that expansion begins in appreciation.
Closing Reflection
This week taught me the importance of checking in with who I’m becoming and noticing what still serves me and what doesn’t. The habits, walls, words, and defense mechanisms that once kept me safe were now keeping me small. The armor that protected me was now the cage I was outgrowing. So the woman I am today had to gently tap the warrior inside me on the shoulder, the one who fought through the past, and let her know it’s okay to rest. I can take it from here.
To all the versions of me, past and future, I am grateful. For every person, every chapter, every storm, every moment of stillness that shaped me. For every encounter I’ve had and every one I have yet to meet… what a gift it is to experience life in all its layers.
As you walk into this next week, carry the excitement of the unknown, the guidance of the universe, and the wisdom of everything you’ve moved through. Within that alignment, life unfolds in the most magical ways… often better than you could have imagined.
See you next Sunday, Behind the Mirror.
Sunday Song
Let this track guide you deeper into your reflection tonight:
🎵 “More Than Enough” - Sarah Reeves
ISSUE 01 - RECLAIMING THE REFLECTION THAT SAVED ME
Opening Reflection
This week’s reflection took me back to the woman I once was silenced into becoming. The version of me whose reflection in the mirror only matched the defense mechanisms built for survival in a marriage that stripped away every physical and soul connection I had to myself. The numbness my mind created as armor began to crack. And in the mirror, tiny flickers of light started breaking through the brokenness. I could see her, the version of me who refused to disappear. The light that someone tried to snuff out was still alive. It was burning. And as that flame grew, so did the very origin of this method. My fight was no longer about surviving a toxic environment. It became personal. It became the fight to return to myself, for myself. I didn’t know then that those raw, quiet steps, the processes, the rituals, the movements — would one day accumulate into a system of healing. A way to inspire others to look deeper into the mirror for their own reflection of authenticity, passion, and truth… and not the version the world, circumstances, or fear tried to create for them.
SECTION 1 — Mirror Word: The Moment I Saw Myself Differently
“There was a time I looked in the mirror and couldn’t recognize the woman staring back. That’s where the first pillar began.”
Expansion: There’s a difference between “looking at yourself” and “seeing yourself.”
This week reminded me of how that moment changed everything, the pause, the honesty, the courage to rewrite my reflection. That’s where the first pillar began: language that rebuilds identity.
Present moment:
Today, I still return to this practice, not to perfect my reflection, but to honor it.
SECTION 2 — Nature Alignment: Returning to Ground
“The more chaotic life felt, the more nature reminded me that everything real grows slowly - and still rises.”
Expansion: Life accelerates fast, but growth often doesn’t. Nature teaches this without effort, reminding us that grounded energy isn’t stillness, it’s direction. It’s the quiet clarity that guides movement.
Present moment: This week, I reminded myself to step outside, to breathe, to let the elements mirror back what my mind was too loud to hear.
SECTION 3 — Movement Ritual: Reclaiming My Body
“For years, my body felt like evidence - of stress, of shame, of survival.”
Expansion: Movement continues to teach me that my body is not the enemy, it’s the narrator. My body held stories long before my voice dared to speak them. This week, I honored the ways movement becomes medicine, the way breath becomes release, the way forgiveness expands capacity.
Present moment: As I teach Lagree now, I remember this truth: strength is not proof, it’s presence.
Closing Reflection
Each pillar entered my life at the exact moment the healing was needed, not just to release the past, but to make room for the expansion and excitement of a life I couldn’t yet see. They aligned perfectly, one by one, until repetition created clarity. A system I could always return to, for meaning, for grounding, for calm. Healing is not a direct rise to the top. Inside healing lives the greatest gift of all: growth. Every day brings us glimpses of fear, joy, frustration, sadness, weakness, love…. And every day we get the opportunity to choose differently. To meet fear with courage, and to reach for even one small moment of joy or love. In those choices, we experience ourselves through a new reflection. One aligned with our truth, one closer to our authentic selves. This week, I challenge you to remember that the beauty of life is that you are uniquely you. You come with your own experiences, your childhood, your past, your gifts, your passions. You carry a perspective that only you can offer. And that perspective… your depth, your understanding, your empathy… becomes a bridge. A connection only you can create, simply by being who you truly are.
So I hope this week you choose to be different. Different from the old stories you’ve carried, different from the narratives others have placed on you, different in a way that honors your soul. Choose the version of you that feels authentic. Because when you stand in your truth, the people whose hearts and energy align with yours can find you. And together, those connections begin to create magic.
Sunday Song
Let this track guide you deeper into your reflection tonight:
🎵 “Holocene” — Bon Iver