Meet Rhian

Writer, solo mumma, homebody, observer of the inner world and devoted student of what it means to live a life that actually feels like home.

This journal is my online publication — a lifestyle space exploring womanhood, motherhood, identity, self-discovery, grounding and the quiet work of becoming. It’s a place for women who are tired of performing, shrinking, rushing, or surviving — and are ready for something softer, truer, slower and deeply their own.

I write to remember myself and I hope these words help you remember yourself, too.

I grew up in the Waikato, New Zealand — a highly sensitive girl in a world that rewarded stoicism, self-sacrifice and emotional suppression. Like many women, I learned early that belonging required shrinking, smoothing, adapting, disappearing.

By adulthood, I had mastered self-abandonment so well that I no longer knew who I was — what I liked, desired, believed, or needed. In a six-year relationship that led to an engagement, I dimmed myself into someone unrecognisable. My style changed. My voice quietened. Even my joy became negotiable.

Leaving that life was the first act of returning home to myself.

After the breakup, I packed a suitcase and travelled — Cambodia, China, Italy, Portugal, the US, Canada, and back again. Not to escape, but to meet myself without anyone else’s expectations.

Travel didn’t fix me — but it reminded me I existed.

Then, in 2018, after returning home, I learned I was five weeks pregnant. Overnight, my world reshaped. I became a mother long before I felt ready — carrying both deep love and deep fear.

Motherhood cracked me open — not just emotionally, but spiritually, relationally and psychologically. It brought every unhealed part of me to the surface…and asked to be witnessed.

Postpartum was humbling. I lived alone, anxious, overwhelmed, sleeping in a cold house that felt nothing like safety. I had never experienced anxiety before — suddenly, it was everywhere.

When Emilia was nine months old, I realised I was disappearing again — not into a partner this time, but into motherhood itself.

I didn’t want to lose myself to love.
I wanted to grow alongside it.

So I began the slow return — the inner work. I started honouring my needs, desires, rhythms and identity… not as a rebellion against motherhood, but as devotion to it.

Because when a woman rises, her children rise with her.

I don’t write because I have all the answers.
I write because I’ve lived the questions.

For most of my life, I couldn’t find examples of motherhood, womanhood or lifestyle that felt human, honest, nuanced, soulful or sustainable. Everything felt performative or prescriptive — aesthetics without truth.

So I created what I was searching for.

A grounded, tender publication for women navigating identity, healing, self-discovery, solo motherhood, emotional resilience and the desire to live intentionally — without abandoning themselves.

This journal exists so no woman has to walk her becoming alone.

Women who…

Whether you're in the messy middle, the quiet unraveling or the first flicker of return — you belong here.

I write about:

Not to teach — but to witness, reflect and walk beside you.

Think: a quiet cup of tea with someone who gets it.

I didn’t create this space because I had it all figured out.
I created it because I was still becoming —
and I knew others were, too.

If you’re here, you’re meant to be.
Welcome home.

If you’d like to receive essays, reflections and stories directly in your inbox, subscribe — it’s free, slow, intentional and written with care.

I’m so glad you’re here.
Truly.

Rhian xx