Hello, from Bali.
I made the long journey out here last Saturday, and nothing could’ve prepared me for the level of transformation that hit me the second I landed. I didn’t realize how alone I would feel being across the world by myself — but here I am. Just me. No distractions. No familiar patterns to hide behind.
Night one?
I panicked. I cried.
I questioned everything.
Like… what the actual fuck am I doing?
And honestly? I still feel like parts of my life are falling apart. It’s a strange kind of unraveling — the kind that only happens when you leave everything you know and drop into a place where time moves slower and there’s nowhere to run from yourself.
And then there’s the relationship.
The one I’ve been back-and-forth with for months.
Three weeks of no contact now.
It dissolved quietly, sharply, suddenly — the way things do when they’ve been held together with fantasy and fear instead of truth.
Even still… he’s in my mind every day.
I miss him.
The love doesn’t disappear — it just has nowhere to land right now.
And deep down I know this distance is the healthiest thing for us both.
But when everything slowed down here, I had to sit with myself — really sit — and look at where I was messy, where I contributed, where I kept choosing what hurt.
I’ve cried more in seven days than I have in years.
I’ve dreamt of him.
I’ve woken up with my heart racing.
I’ve struggled to be present with people here because my mind feels hijacked by memories, moments, “what ifs,” and the shock of how fast everything changed.
I’m sharing this because I know I’m not the only one who has lived through heartbreak that feels like psychological whiplash.
Three weeks ago, we were in a hotel room telling each other we loved one another and were committed to our future — and within days, it all unraveled.
His choice.
His boundary.
And I’ve had to accept the reality of someone I loved just… being gone.
It’s destabilizing. It’s grief. It’s loss. It’s human.
But here’s the truth I’m holding onto:
I’m not sitting in shame.
I’m not collapsing under the weight of it.
I’m feeling it fully, yes — but I’m also remembering that we were two messy humans doing the best we could with what we knew. And neither of us was the villain. We both played a role in how things unfolded.
I don’t know what happens moving forward.
I’m not pretending I’m healed.
I’m not pretending I don’t care.
But the space?
The stillness?
The slowness of Bali?
It’s giving me room to breathe again — room to see the chaos for what it was, room to rebuild my center, room to come back home to myself.
Whatever happens next, I’m here.
Alive. Awake.
And more honest with myself than I’ve been in a long time.
November 17th Bringing it all back to presence.
Honestly… this week there is nothing to do.
I don’t have work pulling me.
I’m 13 hours ahead of everyone I love.
And I’m just here — in this stillness, in this space, in this weird quiet in-between that’s forcing me back into presence.
There’s so much time to sit with God.
To pray.
To be still.
To be quiet.
And truthfully, that’s about all I can muster right now.
My daily life in Bali is simple:
Wake up at 6am.
Read with my coffee.
Do Gyan Chakra Kriya.
Move my body for 20 minutes.
Order breakfast.
Sit by the pool.
Check emails.
Respond to anything essential.
Head to yoga around 11am.
Eat lunch at a café.
Come back, get a massage.
Have dinner.
Read.
Sleep.
It’s slow.
It’s tender.
It’s stripping me down in ways I didn’t realize I needed.
Life is so fucking painful — and so unbelievably beautiful — both at the same time.
I thought I had done the deep work in AA when I got sober, but looking back… that was just the first layer. I barely scratched the surface. Is that how it always is? We think we’ve arrived, and then God says, “Go deeper.”
My heart aches.
But I know I’m loved.
I trust God’s plan and God’s timing.
I refuse to stay stuck or close myself off from what could be better than anything I’ve ever imagined.
And I’m feeling all of this. Fully.
There’s no stuffing anything down — there’s nowhere to hide from it here.
And honestly? I refuse to repeat this level of heartbreak and chaos ever again. I’m letting it all move through me instead of letting it lodge itself in my body.
Because our bodies do hold it all — every emotion, every imbalance, every piece of turmoil we try to bypass. And I’ve seen the havoc that creates. I don’t ever want dis-ease to be my cost of avoidance.
So I’m keeping my body open.
Eating fresh fruit.
Drinking water.
Fresh juices.
Light food.
Anything that supports digestion, clarity, ease.
Because it’s all connected.
The emotions.
The body.
The spirit.
The mind.
The heartbreak.
The healing.
The letting go.
The becoming.
All of it.
If you’re reading this and your life feels like it’s unraveling in slow motion — you’re not alone.
This is the season where God is removing anything built on chaos, delusion, fear, or comfort.
This is the season of being cracked open so you can finally fucking breathe.
If you feel everything collapsing and rearranging… good.
We are in the same initiation.
We’re being asked to feel, to release, to detox our bodies and souls from the shit we’ve carried for years.
This is the part nobody glamorizes — the becoming.
xoxo Amber
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