Treize
coming back to my own pace.
there’s a certain kind of quiet you only notice when you stop trying to fill it.
this morning, i woke up really late, after a fun day with people the night before.
i started with coffee (hot this time, not iced), fed dichie, and moved on to prepping buttercream for the bakery for the week, since this week is valentine’s week and i have a couple of cake orders to fulfill.
on a typical start to my day, it would be filled with music, a podcast (catching up with my faves) or listening to an audiobook (which i picked up eventually) but i started with utter silence.
somewhere in 2025, i took a step back. i went still for a bit, because my letters almost became forced and my ideas weren’t flowing as they used to.
and in that stillness, i learned things i couldn’t hear when everything was loud.
i learned that creativity is better invited; it flows where your mind is uncluttered.
before, i used to treat my ideas like deadlines. if i wasn’t producing, i felt guilty. if i wasn’t consistent, i felt behind.
even the things i loved - reading, podcasting, writing - started to feel like tasks instead of pleasures.
so i stayed still.
i let my mornings breathe.
i let books wait for me instead of racing through them.
i let coffee show up when it wanted, not because it had to.
some days i drank it. some days i didn’t. and weirdly, that freedom made it taste better when i did.
restarting my podcast felt a little like opening a door i hadn’t used in a while. my hand hesitated on the handle. i was excited, yes, but also unsure, very unsure.
would my voice still sound like mine? would my audience still enjoy the podcast? would i remember why i started in the first place?
turns out, i didn’t need to remember.
i just needed to begin again.
this time, without performance.
without pressure.
without pretending every episode had to change the world.
now, when i sit with my mic, i listen more than i rush. i let conversations stretch. i let silence live between thoughts. i let myself show up imperfectly, instead of perfectly prepared.
it’s funny, coming back didn’t require motivation.
it required permission.
permission to arrive slowly.
permission to be gentle with momentum.
permission to create without proving anything.
these days, my mornings aren’t impressive. they’re just honest.
sometimes it’s coffee and two pages of a book.
sometimes it’s a morning walk while men stare at you.
sometimes it’s nothing but quiet and a warm mug in my hands, with dichie lying by my feet fully fed.
and that’s enough.
i’m not sure what 2026 holds, but i do know that it is the year i start new hobbies while enjoying my day-to-day.
february is heavily about love, there are pinks and reds everywhere you look and turn to, and this can be overwhelming and in that spirit i’m sharing with you a red velvet brownie recipe that you can make just for you.
from my kitchen: red velvet brownies topped with white chocolate ganache.
i love brownies so much, they’re one of the few things i perfected early on in my baking journey, and everytime i make them, i’m always baffled because they always seem to taste better than the last.
for whisk n’ mix, i’m preparing valentine’s day packages, and thought it would be great to include red velvet brownies in the mix, because why not.
then i thought it would also be great to share the recipe here to add a little joy to your day.
ingredients
130g milk chocolate
15g cocoa powder (light)
100g butter
100g brown sugar
100g white sugar
2 eggs
90g flour
2 tsps red food coloring.
chopped white, dark, and milk chocolate bars
instructions
preheat oven to 180 °C
in a pan, melt butter and chocolate together.
add the cocoa powder and red food coloring, stir, and take off the heat, and allow to cool completely.
to a bowl, combine eggs and sugars and beat until fluffy (for a crinkly top).
add the chocolate mix and combine.
add flour and mix.
fold in chopped chocolates and pour into a greased and lined baking tray
bake for 20 minutes, insert a toothpick, and if it comes out with some crumbs, it’s all done.
top with white chocolate ganache and enjoy.
if you’re reading this from your own corner, kitchen counter, bed edge, café table, sofa, i hope you’re letting yourself come back to things gently too. not rushing your rhythm. not competing with anyone’s timeline. just meeting your life where it is.
a journal prompt for you
Where in my life am I being asked to return gently instead of perfectly?
You can explore it through these little starters:
Lately, my mornings feel like…
Something I stopped doing but miss is…
I feel most like myself when I’m…
One thing I want to restart without pressure is…
If I moved at my own pace, my days would look like…
as you move through the rest of your week, i hope you carry this softness with you; into your mornings, your work, your conversations, even the pauses you don’t usually notice.
you don’t need to have everything figured out. you don’t need to rush back into who you think you should be.
you’re allowed to take your time.
you’re allowed to sip, not gulp.
Till my next newsletter, may your mornings be gentle, your coffee warm (or optional), your thoughts unhurried, and your days just a little bit softer.
Daalụ 💕