I’m a clinical psychologist. I’m also someone who left her home country to start again. And although the story sounds strong in hindsight, the beginning didn’t feel that way. It was full of uncertainty, of lonely moments, of questions I didn’t yet know how to answer. Journaling became the mirror I didn’t know I needed. It helped me name what I was feeling. What I feared. What I longed for. And slowly, it began to show me a path I hadn’t seen before. I realized that journaling wasn’t just a personal tool. It was a shared need. I had seen how much women carry in silence. How often we feel we have to “stay strong,” when what we really need is a space to simply be real. That’s when the idea for this journal was born. Not as a place filled with toxic positivity or forced motivation, but as a safe container—a soft, honest, emotional companion. A journal where women could show up as they are. Where they could slow down, hear their own voice, and hold space for what’s really inside. What started as a small idea turned into a calling I couldn’t put down. Page after page, I poured everything I wished someone had given me: gentle prompts, quiet encouragement, room to breathe, and space to feel. Creating this journal became part of my own healing too. And now, it is my wish that it reaches every woman who needs a reminder that she’s not alone. And that listening inward is, truly, coming home.