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Welcome Back!
Since the launch of Girl, Groomed on April 22, I’ve been deeply moved by how the book has resonated with readers. Whether you’ve been here since the beginning or are just joining now, I’m grateful to have you as part of this growing community.
In these newsletters, I’ll keep sharing behind-the-scenes stories, personal reflections, and what’s next—because healing doesn’t stop at the final page.
This time, I want to share Part One of an essay I wrote about the ways negative self-talk takes root, and how early experiences can plant the seeds of self-doubt that follow us into adulthood:
The Seeds of Self-Talk
I don’t know about you, but the weeds of my mind require regular pruning. They emerge in the form of “I need to work harder, be more productive…” Or the felt consequences, “I really messed that up, I’m so lazy, I should have…” The origins of these intrusive thoughts aren’t always clear, but they become seeds early on.
One of my very first memories as a four-year-old happened one afternoon when I was playing tug of war with my playmate puppy, a black and brown Airedale named Dudley. He and I were pulling either end of a rag between us when, much to my horror, one of his teeth popped out! My interpretation was immediate; I believed that I had done something terrible to him, such that now his teeth were falling out. I was so certain that I was going to get in trouble that I hid the tooth in a nearby desk drawer and slumped around the house in my hidden shame and guilt.
Even at this tender age, I had already absorbed that every misstep risked my being rejected or deemed less worthy.
What was true about my home environment was that my mother was critical and exacting in what constituted “acceptable” behavior according to her definition. She was quick to correct me, tell me I wasn’t wearing the right outfit, and remind me that I was playing too loudly.
However, my mom also made me feel special. Most nights as a kid, she play-acted a town crier’s role in which she dramatically heralded me in as a princess before bedtime in a silly routine that made me feel warm inside. Then, in a flash, it could all come tumbling down when she also regularly lashed out or withdrew her affection in a chilling silence.
Because of her dual faces, I felt the need to keep trying to prove my value amidst my wobbling self-esteem. Striving for perfection was my misplaced attempt at self-protection and emotional survival.
These dandelion seeds had already begun to spread in the fertile soil of my
young mind.
✨ A little hint: this piece will also be published in a special women’s writing anthology I’ll be sharing more about soon.
📩 Stay tuned — this is just Part One.
There’s more to this story, and I’ll be sharing the next piece in the upcoming newsletter.
Until then, thank you for being here and walking this path with me.
This post was originally shared as Part 1 of a three-part newsletter series.
Continue to Part 2 → Weeds of My Mind — Part 2
is a therapist and author of Girl, Groomed, sharing her personal story of trauma and healing. Her work blends professional expertise and personal insight to guide readers on their own journeys to resilience.
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