InShift

13/08/2025

To the parts of you that loved in silence. 🌿
To the days you kept showing up with no applause.
To the seasons you survived without telling anyone how hard it was.
You are worthy of celebration — not because the world sees you, but because you see you. 💛

12/08/2025

Christine Derengowski, Writer 💕

12/08/2025

Staying the same isn’t neutral, it’s a decision...

Every day you tolerate what drains you, you’re voting for it to stay in your life.

You can’t complain about a situation you’re unwilling to change.

Change is uncomfortable, but so is settling.

One hurts for a while, the other eats away at you for years.

If you don’t like where you are, take action.

Because every moment you delay is a moment you’re agreeing to keep living exactly as you are right now.👊💥

@ Entrepreneurship Facts

12/08/2025

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12/08/2025

Gabor Maté 💗

11/08/2025

11/08/2025

We convince ourselves that alcohol gives us confidence.
What it really does is dull the part of our brain that warns us when we are crossing our own lines.
That is why you might wake up the next day replaying moments in your head that make you wince.

The truth is that alcohol is not creating courage. It is removing caution.
Confidence is not about blurring your boundaries so you can say or do anything.
It is about knowing exactly where those boundaries are and choosing to hold them.

Sobriety does not make you quieter. It makes you braver in a way that lasts.

10/08/2025

Parenthood will show you how quickly your peace can be pulled apart — by noise, by demands, by the weight of it all.

And for a while, it’s easy to believe that your peace doesn’t matter. That as long as your children are cared for, you can absorb the chaos.

But I’ve learned the opposite is true.

When my peace is gone, my patience follows. My clarity, my ability to listen, my capacity to guide — all of it frays.

Protecting my peace isn’t selfish. It’s the foundation that allows me to show up with the calm, presence, and love my children need.

Because the environment I create inside myself is the one they grow up in. ❤️

Quote Credit: Unknown❣️

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09/08/2025

The narcissist’s disconnection from their Inner Child sounds like this:
“I don’t have needs, I don't need anyone to love me.”

That’s the False Self talking — the armour with defence mechanisms that blames others for the emptiness inside, instead of facing the wound of not feeling lovable.

The codependent’s disconnection sounds like this:
“I’m only lovable if others love me.”

That’s the child still seeking worth in external approval — believing love must be earned, proven, or chased.

Both are wounds.
Both are missing one sacred truth:
The relationship with the Inner Child is fractured.

What shows up in our life is simply the mirror of that disconnection —
A replay of childhood pain, abandonment, and unmet needs.

But what happens when we turn inward?

When we stop outsourcing love…
And begin truly meeting ourselves?

Then whisper to the child within:
“I am here. I love you. You are safe. You are home.”

We become love, and call in its reflection.

Because when the Inner Child feels held…
We align with the love that matches that wholeness.

With love,
Mel ❤

29/04/2025

There’s a theory that suggest your childhood wounds often resurface when your child reaches the same age you were most hurt.

It’s not magic. It’s memory.
It’s your heart, realizing,
“This is how small I was when that happened to me.”

It’s your body remembering what your mind has tried to forget.

Parenting has a way of taking you back, not just to the joyful memories, but also to the moments you wished had gone differently.
And when your child laughs, cries, needs comfort, or even makes mistakes at that age—you might notice deep, unexpected emotions rise up inside you.

Maybe you’ll feel extra protective.
Maybe you’ll feel impatient and not know why.
Maybe you’ll mourn for the younger version of you who didn’t get what they needed.

This is not a sign that you are broken.

It’s a sign that you are being invited—to heal, to re-parent yourself, to give compassion to the child you once were.

Instead of running from the discomfort, you can sit with it.
You can honor your story without letting it write your future.
You can offer your child—and yourself—the safety, patience, and presence you needed back then.

Parenting is not just raising a child.
It’s also, quietly and powerfully, raising yourself.

So if you find yourself unexpectedly tender, easily triggered, or overwhelmed when your child reaches a certain age, know this:
It’s not weakness.
It’s an opportunity for redemption.

You are not alone.
And you are allowed to heal, even as you nurture.

Carry on, momma. 🤍