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Book Review: Weyward by Emilia Hart Have you ever felt like there was something wild and untamed inside you that the world kept trying to contain? Something that whispered of older ways, deeper knowledge, power that didn’t fit neatly into the boxes of society built for you? If so, Emilia Hart’s debut novel Weyward will
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Why emotional labor and performed wellness are draining us “How are you?” my coworker asked as we passed in the hallway, and without thinking, I responded with my automatic “I’m good, thanks!” while my internal monologue was running something more like: I’m overwhelmed by deadlines, my anxiety is through the roof, I had a fight
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I picked up The Mountain is You during one of those periods when I was clearly getting in my own way but couldn’t quite figure out how to stop. You know the feeling—you want something, you have the capacity to get it, but somehow you keep creating obstacles that prevent you from moving forward. Brianna
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How ‘being yourself’ became another performance. Ever notice how the harder you try to be authentic, the more artificial it feels? There’s something deeply ironic about the amount of effort that goes into “just being yourself.” We’re told to live our truth, show up authentically, and stop pretending to be someone we’re not—but what happens
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The problem with our obsession with emotional resilience I used to think emotional resilience meant bouncing back quickly from difficult things, like one of those inflatable punching bags that pops right back up no matter how hard you hit it. I thought resilient people were the ones who could experience loss, trauma, or disappointment and
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The toxic positivity epidemic and authentic emotional processing I was having coffee with a friend last week, telling her about a difficult period I’d been going through—work stress, family drama, the general weight of existing in the world right now—when she interrupted me mid-sentence with a bright smile and said, “Have you tried just thinking
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I haven’t talked to my high-school best friends in since graduation, and it’s nobody’s fault. We didn’t have a fight. There was no dramatic falling out, no harsh words exchanged. we just…drifted. Slowly, quietly, like continents moving apart over geological time. One day I looked up and realized we’d become strangers who share a history.
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