Come Back to What Matters

This weekend wasn’t loud.

It wasn’t a business breakthrough, a big launch, or a hot moment on a rooftop in New York.

It was my nephew’s tiny hand wrapped around my finger.

It was the kettle boiling in my sister’s kitchen.

It was home. not just the postcode kind, but the felt kind. The kind that drops your nervous system into softness you forgot you needed.

After a week that was full throttle, full-on, and full of f*ck-off energy… I came back to London.

Back to the rain-kissed pavements and the familiar smell of my old jumper and the laugh that only my family knows how to pull out of me.

And suddenly, it wasn’t about what I was building.

It was about what I was being.

Present. Loved. Held. Whole.

Sometimes, the most revolutionary thing isn’t another plane ticket or another brave leap. It’s a Sunday roast. A cuddle on the couch. A reminder that you’re already enough, even without the noise.

This weekend was one big OFH moment.

Not sexy.
Not shiny.
But soul-deep.

Because joy doesn’t always arrive with a bang.
Sometimes it arrives as peace.

And that’s the kind of wealth I’m protecting right now.

OFH invitation:

What would feel like home in your body today?

If this week was chaos...

If you’ve been wired, tired, stretched thin

This is your sign to come back to softness.

Breathe. Drop in. Let home find you.

OFH isn’t earned. It’s chosen.

Right now. Just like this. 🤍


M x