This space was born from both unimaginable loss and quiet, radical healing. I’m not here to preach about pain or loss, or say how you should heal. But I am here to hold space — for your grief, your growth, and everything in between.

A woman with dark hair, wearing a gray T-shirt, sits beside a young child lying in a hospital bed with medical tubes and oxygen mask. The woman gently touches the child's face, showing a caring moment.
Smiling young woman in a hospital bed with a young child dressed in a graduation cap and gown, holding a diploma.
A woman in a white medical uniform taking a selfie in a mirror in a bathroom while a young boy, shirtless and with a towel around his neck, leans over the bathroom sink.

Hi, I’m Micheleen (Mick-a-lean).

Hi, I’m Micheleen (Mick-a-lean).

And here’s a little of how I ended up here.

I’ve always been a deeply emotional person—born into a world that didn’t quite know what to do with emotions. I grew up with anxiety, experienced depression as a teen, and found myself navigating life alone from a young age. My home life was unstable, so I moved between different relatives, dropped out of high school, and did my best to find my footing wherever I could.

At 18, I completed a dental assistant program and fell in love with understanding the body and holistic wellness. But despite building a life that looked stable on the outside, I was still struggling internally. Panic attacks and anxiety crept in, and that’s when I turned to holistic healing—hypnotherapy, yoga, and mindfulness. For the first time, I started to feel safe in myself. But even then, I still felt a little lost.

Then came my greatest teacher: my son, Tad.

Tad was born with complex medical needs, and as a brand new mom, I was suddenly trained to be his full-time caregiver. I learned how to manage a trach, ventilator, G-tube, countless medications, and daily therapy routines. It was a lot—and for a while, he was really sick.

But over time, I discovered how to use food and lifestyle changes to support his healing. Slowly, I watched him come alive. He was thriving—because home truly is the best medicine.

Still, we constantly struggled to find safe, qualified nursing care. I was exhausted, burnt out, and doing everything alone. Even though I had always said I’d never become a nurse, I enrolled in LPN school—because I would do anything for Tad.

Halfway through the program, the unthinkable happened.

An unqualified nurse missed a critical moment, and Tad passed away in her care. His trach came out, and though all the tools to save him were within reach, she didn’t act—because she didn’t know how. I still don’t have words for what really happened in this situation.

Losing my son shattered me.

Finishing nursing school while grieving him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But the truth about how he died lit a fire in me. I knew I couldn’t stay silent. I wanted change. I wanted justice. But I also realized I couldn’t help others unless I first learned how to help myself.

So, for the past three years, I’ve been on a deep healing journey—studying grief, the nervous system, trauma, and the body. I’ve worked as a nurse with patients recovering from brain injuries and near drownings, and witnessed firsthand the emotional toll of complex medical conditions. I traveled to India to complete my 200-hour yoga teacher training and later shifted my college degree from nursing to exercise science and psychology—where I’ve deepened my understanding of how the brain and body process trauma, and how our subconscious shapes our ability to move forward.

Today, I use everything I’ve learned to help others reconnect with themselves—through nervous system regulation, somatic healing, creative expression, and simple, soul-centered routines that bring us back to life.

This space is dedicated to those walking through deep grief, chronic stress, or a healing journey that doesn’t fit neatly into a box. It’s for anyone who’s trying to come home to themselves again.

Thank you for being here. I hope this space reminds you that healing is possible—even after everything.

With love,
Micheleen (Forever, Tad’s Mom)

To fully experience grief is a painful privilege that can completely change you and the way you live your life.

It all begins with an idea. Maybe you want to launch a business. Maybe you want to turn a hobby into something more. Or maybe you have a creative project to share with the world. Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference. Don’t worry about sounding professional. Sound like you. There are over 1.5 billion websites out there, but your story is what’s going to separate this one from the rest. If you read the words back and don’t hear your own voice in your head, that’s a good sign you still have more work to do.