Kirsty Kell - Therapeutic Counselling and Supervision

26/01/2026

26/01/2026

26/01/2026

The habit that will give you your power back? Take nothing personally.

Your sensitivity is a gift - but when you take everything personally, that gift turns into self-punishment.

This is where the Let Them Theory comes in.

Let Them think what they think, and then Let Me remind myself of the most important part:

I don’t have to take this personally.

11/01/2026

07/01/2026

07/01/2026

22/10/2025

love yourself free.

22/10/2025

Read that again.

You’re probably not giving yourself enough credit.

Progress doesn’t always feel loud.
Sometimes it’s quiet.
Sometimes it’s just you, becoming the person you once wished you could be.

Drop a ❤️ if you needed this reminder today.

✍️ IG: projectmeliora_

14/10/2025

Sometimes growth isn’t about adding more, understanding more, or reaching higher.
Sometimes it’s about slowing down, rooting deeper, and letting enough be enough.

A quiet reflection for anyone who’s tired of striving — or ready to rest inside what already is.

The Season of Enough 🌿

Growing QuietlyThere was a time when I measured growth by how much I could understand.I read, studied, analysed and compared. I wanted to know why I was as I am — what shaped me, what broke me, and how to protect myself from myself.If I could understand it, maybe I could master it.If I could maste...

23/09/2025

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/15cKRz48gq/

16/09/2025

🌿 When Speaking Heals — And When It Hurts

There are moments when giving voice to our truth feels like survival — a way of protecting ourselves, setting boundaries, or claiming our place in the world. And there are other moments when words cut more than they heal, when the deeper act of care is to hold our truth quietly.

In every encounter we face this tension:
✨ Do I speak, or do I hold back?
✨ Will my words protect me, or wound another?
✨ If I hold my truth quietly, am I being compassionate — or betraying myself?

These questions don’t have simple answers. They are part of the ongoing work of being human.

Here's a new reflection exploring the paradox of voice and quiet in human encounters. You can read it here:

When to Speak, When to Hold Quietly: The Tension of Human EncountersThere are moments when giving voice to our truth feels like survival — a way of protecting ourselves, setting boundaries, or claiming our place in the world. And there are other moments when words cut more than they heal, when the...

28/08/2025

✨Follow up thoughts about starting the journey of sharing my writing...

The Stepping Stones of Thought (Kirsty Kell)

Sometimes I look back on things I once thought were profound and now wince at how infantile they seem. What once felt like deep truth now makes me blush with embarrassment. And yet, I know I couldn’t have reached where I am today without those earlier steps. They were necessary. They were mine.

It’s not just in my journals or old essays — even scrolling back through old Facebook posts can make me cringe. Things I thought were funny, clever, or important at the time now look awkward or overblown. And yet, they were part of me in that moment. They carried me here.

That awareness carries a paradox: what feels true to me today may one day feel simplistic, naïve, or even nonsensical. I may look back at these very words with the same embarrassed smile. And I feel the fear of that even as I write.

This is what makes sharing my reflections so vulnerable. Every time I put my words into the world, I know they are only half-formed truths — the stepping stones of today. They may not hold up to tomorrow’s wisdom. And yet, if I wait until my thoughts are polished, finished, undeniable, I risk never speaking at all. Perfectionism would keep me stuck on the bank, unmoving.

I suspect I’m not alone in this. Many of us silence ourselves because of the imagined voice of our future self: “What if this looks foolish later? What if people see me as naïve now?” But growth has always required a trail of outgrown skins — words, ideas, and versions of ourselves that no longer fit.

Perhaps this is what wisdom really is: not having the final word, but being willing to speak the provisional word. To say, “This feels true for me right now,” knowing it may not always. To risk embarrassment later for the sake of honesty now.

Because each stone we lay is not just for us. It is also a gift for the person behind us, who needs exactly that half-formed truth to take their next step. What seems infantile in hindsight may have been essential to someone else in the moment.

So I will keep writing. Not because my words are perfect or permanent, but because they are alive right now. And because even if I outgrow them, they might serve as a bridge for someone else.
Maybe the courage is not in writing truths that will last forever, but in daring to share the stepping stones of today, and trusting they will lead us somewhere we cannot yet see.

— Reflections by Kirsty Kell