There was a moment—one I’ll never forget—when I realized I couldn’t keep my story inside anymore.

It all began with a tug.

For years, I felt my story needed to be told, but I couldn’t get past the feeling that it didn’t matter. That I didn’t matter.

That all changed after a psilocin journey where the plant spoke to me and told me that I am special, and that my life wasn’t meant to look like anyone else’s.

I came home from that experience with a clear feeling: I needed to shift my focus from trying to change my story to finally telling it.

And then one day, shortly after, I just started writing.

At first, it was purely therapeutic. But I kept going.

In just under three weeks, I had written the entire manuscript.

The story had been there all along—I just finally had permission to tell it. And once I did, the words came pouring out.

That’s how Dear Parts began.

As a conversation between me and the pieces of myself I had spent years trying to fix, deny, or outrun.

I wrote it because I wanted to tell the truth: healing isn’t about becoming someone new. It’s about remembering who you already are—all of you.

Maybe take a moment today to ask one of your Parts what it needs.

You might be surprised by the answer.

Thank you for being here, and for letting me share this space with you.

It means more than you know.

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With warmth,
Kimberly