Working, Earning, and Holding It Together

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about work, energy, and how I’m actually holding everything together behind the scenes.

I didn’t stop doing things completely, but I did take a step back—especially from heavy work. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed, and I didn’t want to push until I burned out. I’ve been there before, and I know how it starts. For me, it’s when I’m doing many things at once without a clear plan, and everything starts feeling heavy instead of productive.

At that point, even simple tasks feel like too much.

So I slowed down.

I stepped back from most client work, especially the ones that needed a lot of mental energy. I still showed up where I could, but I reduced my load on purpose. I needed space to think properly and reset my brain.

That time was important for me. Not because I was being lazy, but because I needed clarity.

I rested, yes, but I also spent time thinking about my blog and my content. I realized that I didn’t want to just keep posting or creating for the sake of it. I wanted my content to make more sense — to reflect my real life, my current season, and the things I’m actually navigating.

So I used that period to refine things. I thought about what Life in Motion really means to me. I thought about how I want to write, what kind of stories I want to tell, and how I want people to experience my blog when they come here.

This blog isn’t just about work or business. It’s about how I work, earn, and still manage life at the same time. Working from home. Managing money decisions. Trying to grow creatively. Feeling tired some days. Feeling hopeful on others. Wanting success, but also wanting peace.

That’s the reality I’m living, and that’s what I want this space to reflect.

Now that January is here, I’m slowly stepping back into my work again, including client work — but with more intention. I’m not trying to rush or overload myself. I’m choosing to move with more structure and better boundaries.

I’m also focusing on doing better with my content — on the blog and on YouTube. Not louder, not more dramatic, just better. Better quality. Better direction. Content that feels true to where I am right now.

I’ve also been quieter on social media than usual, but that was part of the same decision. I wanted less noise while I figured things out. As I start sharing more again, it will be more about supporting what I’m building here and showing real life as it’s happening.

So this is where I am at the moment — working, earning, adjusting, resting when needed, and trying to hold everything together without losing myself in the process.

That’s what Life in Motion looks like for me right now.

The Couch I’m Not Buying (Yet)

I wanted to buy a couch.

But as 2026 got closer and I looked at my finances again and again, I realized it’s not realistic to get it at the moment. Maybe not this year. Not without forcing it. And I don’t want to force anything.

Still, I don’t want to leave my living room empty again. I'm beginning to feel the desire to equip and decorate.

There’s something about an empty living room that makes a house feel unfinished, like you’re still passing through your own life. And lately, I’ve been feeling this quiet desire to decorate, to make my space feel cozy, to make my home feel intentional. That’s new for me. I’ve never really decorated before. 

Now I want comfort. Even if it’s modest.

So I started thinking: what if I make something?

I have scrap fabric — old clothes I’m cutting into pieces. My first idea was to use what I already have and spend nothing. That felt responsible. Creative. Very “make do with what you have.” I started looking for DIY couch ideas that don’t require wood or money.

But honestly?
Most of the ideas I found didn’t feel like what I wanted. I want my DIY to look like the couch I want to buy.

But the DIY projects I've seen look temporary. Or too rough. Or not something I could love in the long run. And while I’m okay with humble beginnings, I still want something that feels considered. Something I can be proud of. Something that doesn’t make me feel like I’m settling.

Then came the second idea: what if I spend a small amount? Maybe get pallets, or a simple wooden base, and then use my scrap fabric to make cushions or throws. That version looks more refined. More “real couch adjacent.” More aligned with the kind of home I’m trying to build.

But every time I think about spending that money, something in me pauses.

Because the truth is, I have other priorities right now. Things that matter more in the long run. And part of my growth has been learning not to rush aesthetics at the expense of stability. I keep reminding myself: I can save this money now and buy the couch I really want later.

So I am in between.

I don’t want to forcefully buy a couch.
I don’t want to leave my living room empty either.
I don’t want to spend money I’ll need elsewhere.
But I still want beauty. Comfort. Intention.

Lately, I’ve been looking at pouffes too. Maybe that’s the compromise. Something small. Flexible. Soft. Something that says, this space is lived in, without pretending it’s finished. I don't know.

But I’ve found one DIY idea I’m willing to try. It's not perfect, not exactly what I imagined, but good enough to start. I don’t know yet how it will turn out. I’m hoping it looks like something. I’m hoping it feels right. And if it doesn’t, I’ll adjust.

While fingers are crossed for that, I'll share how I navigate this with you. Stay tuned.

Hello loves, 

Hope you are doing well. I had a moment of realization where I worked on myself and want to share it with you to help somebody too.

I Realized My Attachment Style Was Hurting Me—Here’s What I Learned

Lately, I’ve been navigating dating when I realized something important about myself: how I attach to people. Even small connections, like during the talking stage, have been creating unnecessary disappointment and emotional exhaustion for me. I want to share this part of my journey because I know other women might see themselves in it.

I've noticed that I invested emotionally too quickly. I did this by imagining scenarios, building expectations, and attaching before there was any real foundation. To me, this was my way of validating the person for myself in my head. But those scenarios created connections unknown to me, and when things don’t happen the way I imagined, I felt disappointed, even if logically I know there was no commitment. And it became hard to detach. It literally felt like a heartbreak every time. 

This is a pattern I’ve seen in myself with most dating periods I've had. It was exhausting and, honestly, unfair to myself. I had to work on it.

Here’s what I’ve learned and am actively practising:

1. Attachment comes from imagination—notice it early

• When I catch myself imagining things with someone, I stop it.

• I remind myself that imagining does not equal reality.

• This helps me reduce the intensity of early emotional attachment.

5. Self-awareness is the real lesson

• The biggest gift in this process is noticing my attachment patterns and being honest with myself.

• Understanding this helps me see where I’ve been giving my heart too quickly and where I need to slow down.

 Happy New Year 🤍

Hello my loves,
and welcome to a brand new year.

There’s something quietly powerful about this moment: the pause between what has been and what’s possible. A gentle inhale. A chance to begin again, not from pressure, but from intention.

As I step into this new year, I’m not carrying the need to have everything figured out. I’m carrying lessons. Gratitude. Growth. And a softer understanding of myself and life. Last year stretched me in ways I didn’t expect as a woman, a mother, a creative, a human, and I’m choosing to honor all of it.

This year, I want ease. I want alignment. I want consistency without burnout, ambition without guilt, and joy woven into the everyday: the meals, the routines, the work, the becoming. I’m choosing progress over perfection and presence over pressure.

If you’re reading this, I hope this year brings you clarity where there was confusion, peace where there was heaviness, and courage where there was doubt. I hope you give yourself permission to grow slowly, to rest when needed, and to dream boldly, even if the steps feel small.

Thank you for being here. Thank you for reading, supporting, and walking alongside me in this space. I don’t take it lightly. I’m excited for all that this year holds for us: the lessons, the resets, the wins, and the quiet moments in between.

Here’s to a new year.
A softer year.
A fuller year.

Happy New Year ✨

With love,
Ngumabi

You respond differently… and you don’t even realize it until after.

One day, you catch yourself staying calm in a situation that would have sent you spiralling months (or years) ago. You answer with clarity instead of panic. You say “no” without shaking. You don’t over-explain. You don’t defend yourself. You no longer rush to fix a problem that isn’t yours. And you sit there thinking, “Wait… when did I change?”

That’s when you know:
You’ve stepped out of survival mode.

What Survival Mode Actually Is

Survival mode is not just “being stressed.” It’s a whole body state—mental, emotional, and physical that forms when you’ve spent too long living in situations that required you to:

• defend yourself

• predict danger

• keep the peace

• suppress your feelings

• walk on eggshells

• stay alert for the next emotional blow

Your nervous system becomes wired for threat, even when you’re no longer in danger.

It looks normal from the outside, but inside? It’s exhausting.

Related: How Emotional Safety Changes Your Entire Life

How Survival Mode Shows Up (Without You Realizing It)

You don’t always know you’re in survival mode until you see the patterns. Here are some common signs:

1. Overthinking everything

You replay conversations in your head, trying to find what you “did wrong.” You write and rewrite messages. You worry about how people will interpret your tone.

2. Explaining yourself too much

A simple “I was busy” becomes a full paragraph. You feel pressure to justify ordinary actions.

3. Feeling guilty for resting

If you sit down, you feel like you’re wasting time. Like you should be doing something to “keep things from falling apart.”

4. Reading danger in neutral situations

Someone delays replying and you panic. Someone’s tone shifts and you assume the worst.

5. Taking responsibility for other people’s emotions

If someone else is angry, anxious, or upset… you automatically think it’s your fault.

6. Constant alertness

Your mind is always preparing for or anticipating the next problem, argument, request, or crisis.

7. Struggling to trust your own calm

Even when life gets peaceful, your body waits for and expects something to go wrong.

That’s survival mode: living as if the world is a threat, even when it isn’t. Not knowing when to rest of let your guard down.

Healing from Survival Mode: One Day, You Notice the Shift…

Healing doesn’t begin when everything is perfect.
Healing begins when you become different.

Examples of what the shift looks like:

✔️ You say “I’m busy” without guilt.

No emotion. No apology. Just truth.

✔️ You stop defending yourself.

If someone tries to provoke you, you don’t explain or argue. You simply let their words fall flat.

✔️ You respond with calm instead of panic.

Not coldness, just emotional neutrality.

✔️ You don’t absorb other people’s moods.

Their anger? That’s theirs.
Their assumptions? Still theirs.
Your peace? Yours.

✔️ You don’t feel the need to fix everything immediately.

You take your time. You breathe. You go at your own pace.

✔️ You become unshakeable in situations that used to trigger you.

The reaction that once felt automatic now feels unnecessary.

When that happens, you realize:
Your nervous system has finally relaxed.
You’re no longer operating from fear.
You’re responding from a healed place.

Related: Signs You’re Growing Faster Than You Realize

Why This Shift Feels Scary At First

At first, the healing feels… strange.

When you’ve lived in survival mode for so long, peace can feel uncomfortable.
Calm feels suspicious.
Normal interactions feel unfamiliar.
You even worry that you’ll “lose” this version of yourself.

That’s normal.

Your body is rewiring itself.
Your mind is learning safety.
Your spirit is relearning softness.

Your nervous system is getting reprogrammed.

Give yourself time to adjust.

Related: How to Rebuild Your Identity After Survival Mode

How to Stay Grounded as You Heal

Here are gentle ways to protect your peace while you’re transitioning out of survival mode:

1. Keep your responses simple

You don’t owe explanations. Short, calm replies protect your energy.

2. Separate people’s emotions from your identity

Their frustration = their business
Your calm = your responsibility

3. Pause before reacting

A slow breath can stop an emotional spiral before it starts.

4. Anchor yourself in what you know is true

Not every story your mind creates is reality.

5. Let your boundaries speak for you

You don’t need to argue. A “no” is enough.

6. Trust the new version of yourself

You’re not fragile.
You’re not going backwards.
You’re evolving.

Yes, Healing Can Be Quiet 

You don’t have to shout that you’re healed.
You don’t need to announce your growth.

Sometimes healing is quiet.
Sometimes it’s subtle.
Sometimes it’s simply the moment you realize:

“I no longer respond the way I used to.”

That shift, that calm, that groundedness is the new foundation you’re building your life on.

And it only gets stronger from here.

Read More:

How Emotional Safety Changes Your Entire Life

Signs You’re Growing Faster Than You Realize

How to Rebuild Your Identity After Survival Mode

For the past many months — honestly, maybe a year now — I’ve quietly stepped back from social media. Not completely, but from the parts that demanded too much of me: posting, showing up, performing, proving.

The Quiet Exit I Didn’t Announce

At first, even when I stopped posting, I was still scrolling. Especially Instagram. But gradually, even the scrolling became exhausting. Weeks passed… then months. I didn’t miss it. I didn’t feel the urge to check what anyone was doing. Same with Facebook. If I opened the app, it was just to drop a link to a blog post or a YouTube video — nothing more.

Meanwhile, TikTok became my escape. That endless scroll can be comforting and unhealthy at the same time. Yes, I learn things there, but most of it is just random information floating through my brain.

Taking this break made me realise something important:
I had been carrying pressure I didn’t even know I had.

Pressure to impress.
Pressure to “prove” I was doing well.
Pressure to show people that I’m growing, achieving… winning.

Stepping back peeled all of that away.

Letting Go of the Need to Perform

I’m proud of myself for taking that break — even though it didn’t feel intentional at the beginning. I used to worry that people would think I failed. That I disappeared because life wasn’t working out. That I wasn’t “serious.”

But honestly? Silence taught me something freeing:
I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.

I just need to live my life.

I realised that the places I feel most comfortable, the places where my voice flows without pressure, are my blog and my YouTube channel. Those platforms feel like home. No comparison, no performance, no algorithm breathing down my neck — just my thoughts, my days, my process, my world.

Social media, for now, feels like a place I visit, not a place I live.

Even LinkedIn — which I tried to maintain for professional reasons — became another stage where I felt I had to show accomplishments and updates just to be seen as “worthy.” It drained me.

Finding My Way Back to Myself

This break has been healing.

It removed the noise.
It reduced the expectations.
It brought me back to myself.

And the most surprising part?
My passion for blogging never left.
It remained steady through all the confusion.

So here I am — ready to write more, share more, think out loud, document my life, and build again… slowly, intentionally, and without pressure.

I might return to social media fully one day. Or I might not. But for now, I’m honouring the season I’m in: a season of quiet rebuilding and gentle creativity.

And honestly… it feels good.