Behind the Mission

Belief in your right

to choose

Embrace the truth that your needs matter too. Through practicing boundaries with compassion, you'll discover that protecting your peace is how you honor your authentic self.

Belief in Self-Restoration

Every boundary set with kindness is an act of healing. Energy rebuilds and peace returns through small acts of self-honor. Well-being begins with knowing you're worth protecting.

Belief in the Power of Protected Peace

When over-giving leaves us empty, transformation begins. Gentle boundaries rebuild the spirit, lifting us from depletion to empowerment as we learn to guard our peace.

My mission is simple:

To help kind-hearted women discover that the love they seek outside themselves already lives within. Through practicing boundaries with compassion, they learn that protecting their peace isn't selfish—it's how they honor the love they've always carried inside.

My Journey from "I'm Sorry" to "I Matter Too"

My boundary story began before I knew boundaries existed. As the oldest of three, I inherited the title of "little mom"—always responsible, always caring for others. I watched my mother pour herself out for everyone, never keeping a drop for herself. Without realizing it, I learned that love meant emptying yourself.

By high school, exhaustion was my constant companion. That's when I discovered my first boundary, it happened to be hidden in the pages of books. With my nose in a novel, I became unreachable. Reading wasn't just an escape; it was the only way I knew to say "I'm busy" without guilt.

The first crack in my foundation came in university. A friend's mom stopped me mid-apology—my third or fifth "sorry" for things that had nothing to do with me. "Laura, why do you keep apologizing?" she asked. Her question haunted me. I realized I was apologizing for existing, for taking up space, for having needs.

But knowing and changing are different journeys.

The real transformation began when I left the States. Suddenly surrounded by women from different cultures who unapologetically pampered themselves, who said no without explanation, who treated self-care as necessity not luxury. I saw what I'd been missing. These women loved themselves first and somehow, miraculously, people still loved them back.

Still, my journey wasn't linear. Fear whispered that boundaries meant abandonment. Insecurity insisted that my worth came from my usefulness. I noticed alcohol had become my crutch—the only time I could be "selfish" without guilt, though it often turned to meanness instead of boundaries.

Recently, I chose sobriety and discovered something profound: I'd been using alcohol to access the boundaries I was too scared to set sober. Without it, I had to learn the harder lesson—how to honor myself with clarity and kindness.

Today, I catch myself mid-people-please. I notice when "of course!" wants to escape when "I can't" is the truth. I'm not perfect at boundaries—I'm practiced at them. Each no gets a little easier. Each time I choose myself, I reclaim energy I didn't know I'd lost.

This is why I do this work. Because I know the weight of being everyone's caretaker but your own. Because I've felt the exhaustion of giving from an empty well. Because I've learned that boundaries aren't walls—they're the foundation of authentic love.

If you see yourself in my story, know this: You're not broken. You're not selfish. You're just beginning to discover that you matter too.