Welcome to Field Notes — A Quiet Beginning

This letter was the first one I ever wrote here — before I had a title or a handle. Before I knew what this space would become. But reading it again, I see that it still holds the essence of what I want to offer you: a quiet place to land.

So here it is again, now as the welcome mat at the door to this unfolding space — these field notes from a psychologist's life.

Dear friend,

Have you ever longed for a space where you could simply exhale?
Where no one is asking you to fix yourself, prove yourself, or keep up?

This is that space.
Or at least, it hopes to be.

Welcome to this quiet corner of the internet where I write letters to those navigating inner storms, life transitions, and the quiet tug of reinvention.

I'm Ana. A psychologist. A writer. A mother.
A woman whose life has been shaped by many countries, many languages, and many versions of herself.

Through these words, I want to share reflections and questions that help you come home to yourself.
Sometimes poetic. Sometimes practical.
Always rooted in compassion, curiosity, and the belief that healing is not a straight line, but a story we get to rewrite.

If you’ve ever felt the ground shift beneath your identity...
If you’re craving calm in the chaos...
If you're walking the path of growth while carrying the weight of being too much or not enough:
This is for you.

You can expect letters on:

• Emotional well-being in uncertain times

• Reclaiming your voice after burnout or big change

• What it means to be an expat or live between cultures

• Parenting, partnership, and the poetry of daily life

• Creative healing and writing as a mirror

• The quiet rebellion of going inward when the world screams “more”

Some letters will be short and soulful. Others may hold teachings from therapy and life lived off-script.
But each one will be a gentle reminder that you are not alone, and that there is wisdom in your own unfolding.

This first note is simply a hello. A small moment, marked and shared. I’m grateful you’re here.

With care,
Ana