Radical Reframe

05/26/2026

05/21/2026

Have you considered purchasing an Oura ring, or similar product to monitor your sleep, heart rate, daily activity, etc? Currently, Fullscript is offering 10% off the Oura ring 4. Contact our office if you'd like us to send you the Fullscript plan link.

Text or call 757.603.4604
Email: info@torchwellness.com

05/21/2026

Take a moment and enjoy the calm of an early morning at the beach.

05/18/2026

A little joy on a Monday.

05/14/2026

Learning Something New: Why the Struggle Is Actually a Sign Your Brain Is Growing

There’s a moment in every new learning curve when you want to slam your laptop shut, walk away, and declare yourself officially done. Tracy and I have been living in that moment lately as we build our new membership platform—an affordable space for extended connection and support around stress. And let me tell you, we have both been frustrated, cussing, venting, and calling each other just to say, “What were we thinking?”

But here’s the thing we keep reminding each other: this discomfort is not a sign that something is wrong. It’s a sign that our brains are rewiring.

When you learn something new—whether it’s a skill, a platform, a habit, or a way of relating—your brain has to build fresh neural pathways. That process takes energy. It takes focus. And yes, it takes patience. The “inertia” or “pain” you feel isn’t failure; it’s your brain literally stretching, strengthening, and forming new connections. It’s the mental equivalent of sore muscles after a workout.

This is why taking a moment to center, breathe, and remind yourself of what’s happening internally is so important. When you pause, you shift out of reactivity and into awareness. You give your nervous system a chance to settle. You create space for curiosity instead of self‑criticism. That pause is where learning becomes possible.

Every day, Tracy and I log back in. We poke around the platform. We try something new. We break something. We fix something. We learn one tiny piece we didn’t know the day before. And slowly—almost invisibly at first—we’re getting better. More confident. More fluent. More at ease.

This is the part of learning most people don’t talk about: the messy middle. The part where you feel clumsy and unsure. The part where your brain is firing in new ways and hasn’t yet built the smooth pathways that make things feel natural. That’s why the early stages feel so awkward. You’re literally laying down new wiring.

So if you’re learning something new right now—whether it’s a skill, a practice, a technology, or a new way of being—remember this:
The discomfort you feel is growth.
The frustration is your brain strengthening.
The confusion is your neurons reaching for each other.

You’re not behind. You’re not failing. You’re expanding.

Take a breath. Come back to center. Remind yourself that every new connection you make—internally or externally—broadens your access to information, resilience, and possibility.

And if you need support along the way, that’s exactly why we’re building this membership space. Because learning, healing, and growing are easier when you don’t do them alone.

05/08/2026

The Hose, the Spigot, and old Familiar Habits of Thought
If you read my blog last week, you know I had a plumber come to my house to cut the old hoses off my outdoor spigot. After he left, I was eager to finally start gardening once everything was functional again. I had bought 2 new fancy hoses. Perfect. I’ll just screw these on and start planting. .

Except… they wouldn’t go on.

Not even a little.

I twisted. I pushed. I tried the “maybe brute force will work” approach. Nothing. The hose would not attach to the spigot, and within seconds my brain was sprinting into catastrophe mode.

“Great. They broke it. Now the whole spigot is ruined. I’m going to have to replace it.

And I’ll be responsible for paying for someone else’s mistake.”

It didn’t matter that the plumber had been nothing but kind, competent, and gracious every single time I’d worked with them. It didn’t matter that they had literally just helped me. My nervous system didn’t care about facts — it cared about threat.

And here’s the part that’s clinically important:

Many of us don’t jump to “I’m going to be blamed” because of the present moment.

We jump there because of the role we played in our family of origin.

If you grew up as:

the responsible one

the peacemaker

the fixer

the one who kept the household calm

the one who absorbed tension so others didn’t explode

…your nervous system learned a very specific survival strategy:

“If something goes wrong, it’s safer to assume it’s my fault.”

Not because it was your fault — but because taking responsibility kept the peace. It prevented escalation. It maintained connection. It was adaptive.

So when a hose won’t attach to a spigot, the body doesn’t see a minor inconvenience. It sees a familiar danger signal:

“Someone will be upset. Someone will blame me. I need to prepare.”

Which is exactly what I did. I rehearsed imaginary conversations. I imagined losing an argument. I imagined paying the consequences and the bill. .

And to top it off, I imagined the embarrassment of having to explain that I couldn’t even attach a hose like a normal adult.

And because I was fully convinced something was wrong, I called the company back and scheduled another visit for Monday — giving myself the entire weekend to stew in a story that wasn’t even true.

By Monday morning, I was braced for impact.

But then the plumber arrived. Same warm smile. Same easy energy.

Same kindness that made me choose this company in the first place.

Then — in three seconds — he put them on the spigot. No struggle. No issue. No damage. No lecture. No charge.

Just a pleasant, human moment. He fixed it. He complimented my hoses. He left.

And I stood there realizing how much suffering I had created between Friday and Monday — not because of what happened, but because of what my old familiar story told me would happen.

The story that says:

“If something goes wrong, it must be my fault. And I will have to pay for it.”

But sometimes the problem isn’t the spigot. It’s the story.

It’s the role your nervous system still thinks you’re required to play.

And oftentimes the world is much kinder than your conditioning expects.And with a little self awareness you will start to see this truth.

Reflection Prompt
What early family role taught your nervous system that taking responsibility was safer than defending yourself or creating conflict — and how does that old story still shape the way you interpret small, everyday misunderstandings today?

05/07/2026

What's your favorite way to add avocados to your diet?
Avocados are rich in folate, a nutrient that supports the production of the neurotransmitters serotonin and dopamine. Both are essential for mood balance and emotional well-being. Additionally, avocados provide essential vitamins and minerals, including potassium, magnesium, vitamin B6, vitamin C, vitamin E, and copper.
Avocados are also high in fiber, promoting digestive health.

05/01/2026

It’s strawberry season! Do you enjoy strawberries? Or, do you have to avoid raw strawberries due to OAS?

Strawberries are nutritional powerhouses that offer significant health benefits in a small, low-calorie package.

Key Health Benefits
Heart Health: Their anthocyanins improve "good" HDL cholesterol and lower blood pressure.
Blood Sugar Control: They slow down glucose digestion, preventing insulin spikes after a starchy meal.
Brain Function: High levels of flavonoids help delay cognitive decline and improve memory.
Immune Support: One serving provides more Vitamin C than an orange, aiding skin and immunity.

Strawberries are an easy addition to salads, cereal, yogurt, or oatmeal. You can blend them with orange juice and a banana for a quick smoothie. And, they can be enjoyed on their own.

Did you know, true strawberry allergies are considered rare compared to other food allergies. While exact global figures are limited, research indicates that the prevalence peaks in early childhood and significantly decreases as people age.

Some people develop mouth swelling or oral sores after eating a few strawberries. The cause is Oral Allergy Syndrome (OAS), also known as Pollen-Food Allergy Syndrome (PFAS). Oral Allergy Syndrome occurs when your immune system confuses the proteins in strawberries with those in birch pollen. Eating strawberries in the cooked form does not seem to cause the same reaction.

04/30/2026

The Stories We Tell Ourselves: How Shifting Perspective Can Ease Anxiety and Break Old Patterns
Human beings are natural storytellers. Long before we had written language, we made sense of the world by weaving experiences into narratives. Over time, those narratives—shaped by our upbringing, past hurts, cultural messages, and personal history—become the lens through which we interpret everything. The problem is that the lens isn’t neutral. It’s tinted by old fears, outdated beliefs, and assumptions we don’t even realize we’re making.
This is one of the reason why anxiety can feel so pervasive. We aren’t just reacting to events; we’re reacting to the story we believe and tell ourselves repeatedly about those events. And often, that story is rooted in an old pattern rather than facts from the present moment.
One powerful tool for breaking these cycles is learning to recognize the story you’re telling—and then gently challenging it by considering other perspectives.
When something stressful happens, the mind tends to default to familiar narratives. For some people, it’s “I’m in trouble.” For others, “I’m alone in this,” or “This is going to go badly.” These interpretations feel automatic because they’ve been rehearsed for years. But automatic doesn’t mean accurate.
A simple but transformative practice is to pause and acknowledge:
“This is one perspective. This is one story I’m telling myself.”
From there, you can intentionally explore alternative viewpoints. What might a neutral bystander see? How would a professional—like a doctor, a teacher, or a police officer—interpret the situation? What about a spouse, a friend, or a daughter? Each perspective offers a different emotional tone, a different set of assumptions, and often a more balanced interpretation.
This shift doesn’t erase the original feeling, but it loosens its grip. It creates space for an alternative interpretation.
Recently, I had an experience that reminded me how powerful this practice can be. I had plumbers come to remove a hose that had become stuck to the spigot. After they left, I realized I couldn’t attach a new hose. Immediately, my mind collapsed into a familiar story: I’m the victim here. This is going to cost me more money. I’m going to have to defend myself and prove it wasn’t my fault.
Within seconds, I was imagining confrontations, repairs, and worst‑case scenarios. My anxiety spiked—not because of the spigot, but because of the meaning I had assigned to it; which was, I was powerless to fix this situation.
Once I caught myself in the story spiral, I paused and took a few deep, centering breaths. I acknowledged the story I was telling. Then I tried on a few others:
Maybe there’s an easy fix.
Maybe the plumbers will correct any mistake they made.
Maybe I bought the wrong hose.
None of these were guaranteed to be true, but they were possible. And by allowing multiple possibilities, my anxiety softened. The situation didn’t change—but my relationship to it did.
This is the heart of perspective‑shifting: becoming less attached to the meaning we automatically assign and more open to the many interpretations that could also be true. When we do this, we step out of old patterns and into a more grounded, flexible way of experiencing life.
Remember, growth isn’t about forcing yourself to think differently. It’s about becoming more aware of and less attached to the meaning you automatically assign. When you loosen your grip on one story, you make room for many possibilities. That’s where freedom begins and anxiety lessens. Play with this idea over the next week and share what changes for you.

04/23/2026

Growing Together: What Two Clients Taught Me About Listening, Repair, and Being Human

Last week, two different patients reached out to me with something difficult but deeply important: they felt unheard and misunderstood during our recent sessions. Both described moments where my habit of introjecting—jumping in with my own reflections too quickly—left them feeling unseen. Hearing this was painful. I felt a wave of shame, the kind that comes when your intentions don’t match your impact. And yet, beneath that discomfort was something else: an invitation to grow.

I apologized to each of them, not from a place of defensiveness, but from genuine recognition. They were right. I had been speaking too quickly, offering insight before fully receiving theirs. Even as a clinician with decades of experience, I am still human. I still make mistakes. And I am still learning how to listen more deeply.

What surprised me, though, was what happened next.

Both clients shared that the process of deciding how to talk to me about their feelings created unexpected growth in their lives as well.

One patient told me that after our interaction, she found herself setting a healthier boundary with a friend—something she had been avoiding for months. She realized that speaking up, even when it feels uncomfortable, is a form of self-respect.

The other client shared that instead of spiraling into a familiar story of being “the victim,” she paused. She reminded herself that her feelings were valid. She took time for self-reflection rather than assuming the worst about the interaction. That shift—choosing curiosity over self-blame—was a profound act of self-leadership.

After each conversation, I took a few moments to breathe, ground, and remind myself of something I tell my patients all the time: We are all growing. None of us are finished. I placed a hand on my chest, felt my feet on the floor, and let myself settle back into the truth that repair is part of relationship. In fact, repair is often where the deepest healing happens.

These moments reminded me that therapy is not a one-directional process. Tracey and I learn just as much from our patients as they learn from us. Every interaction—positive or challenging—shapes us. It sharpens our awareness, deepens our empathy, and strengthens our commitment to showing up with presence and humility.

So I want to offer you the same gentle challenge I offered myself:

Over the past few days, what have you learned from your interactions—both the nourishing ones and the uncomfortable ones? What did they reveal about your patterns, your needs, your boundaries, or your growth edges?

We are all practicing. We are all refining. We are all becoming more of who we are meant to be.

And we are doing it together.