Hello lovely,
It’s been a little while since I last wrote, and I’ve been sitting with how I want to return this season.
Something has shifted — not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet, steady kind of knowing. A deeper sense of how I want to create and connect from here.
There’s a part of me that’s ready to lay down the polish, the perfection and the performance. I want to share more truthfully — not just the shaped and softened words, but the raw voice beneath them.
So I’m trying something new.
Lately, I’ve been recording voice notes — not the polished kind, but the private, in-the-moment kind I’d usually keep tucked away as I make sense of the big, quiet moments in between. These voice journals have become a way for me to open my throat, to move emotion, to let my truth breathe before it becomes a crafted sentence or a final post.
And now, I want to begin sharing some of them with you.
To open my throat.
To speak instead of always write.
To let you hear me in the moments before everything is figured out.
This first one is a little note I recorded on a rainy evening, voice hushed as Emilia slept:
You’ll hear the storm in the background, my throat clearing, thoughts forming mid-sentence. It’s imperfect — and it’s a beginning.
This is part of a broader shift for me.
More voice. More process. More intimacy.
A season of speaking from the center of my life rather than the edges.
Which brings me to something else stirring in the background...
A new series — one that opens the door on a deeply personal and transformative chapter I've recently navigated.
Over the coming weeks, I’ll begin sharing a collection of reflections, essays, poems and voice notes that explore the experience of reconnecting with someone from my past — not to tell that story, but to trace the deeper one it revealed.
This is a series about the mirrors we meet in love.
The ways we abandon ourselves to belong.
The ache of remembering what we thought we had to forget.
And the way truth softens us open, again and again.
These pieces will be tender, slow and true.
And I’ll let you know when the first one lands.
For now, thank you for being here.
For walking beside me as this next season unfolds.
And for listening — in more ways than one.
With love,
Rhian xx
