Belonging
When the concept of Wildflower first came into my periphery, it was in response to a specific problem in my own life. It was 2022 and I was then a mother of two littles, juggling a remote job while living in a new place, and the limited time I had to fill my own cup had quietly disappeared. Yoga, pilates, journaling - the activities that keep me in touch with myself - all surrendered to the altar of my children’s growing list of enrichment activities. Jiu jitsu, art, gymnastics, piano, soccer…
“When is the time to do things that enrich me?” I wondered. “Why isn’t there a place where busy caregivers can fill their cup - without feeling like it is coming at the expense of their children’s well-being?”
It’s not as if the wellness industry doesn’t exist. Almost every woman I know has a monthly subscription to her local medspa, gym, or pilates studio. Yet in order for a caregiver to access any of it, she needs infrastructure. School, camps, babysitters, nannies, partners. This vital support system is a fixed condition of her ability to do anything for herself.
“What if it doesn’t have to be this way?” A nascent seed took root in my mind. Fragile, yet powerful.
What if there were a place where caregivers could go, to disconnect from the noise and reconnect with themselves, while their kids learn meaningful, age-appropriate tools for regulating their own nervous systems? What if these skills were taught far earlier than most of us learned — in our 20s or 30s, sometimes never? How might children grow up differently if they understood that their big feelings aren't bad monsters to be feared, but simply proof of their humanity? What might our communities look like, if we all gave ourselves — and each other — a little more grace?
As I turned this idea over in my mind, the answer came from somewhere unexpected. A song my husband had shown me our first year in college, the one they played as I walked down the aisle, that resonated in my soul long before I could say why, held the key.
“You belong among the wildflowers” Tom Petty croons. “You belong somewhere you feel free.”
Somewhere you feel free. That is what we are building at Wildflower. A place where you can show up exactly as you are, with however much laundry still waiting at home, with however many interrupted tasks still on the to-do list, with however many dreams still living in your head and not yet in real life - and be met with total acceptance and understanding. Wildflower is a place for you to meet yourself, and an invitation to explore the questions that get lost in the hustle and bustle of daily life.
Who am I, when no one needs anything from me?
What do I want to do - not because it is expected of me, but because it brings me joy?
Where do I feel free? Where do I belong?
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I’ve been thinking about that last one a lot lately.
For most of my life, the concept of belonging seemed easy, even obvious. I belonged in the house where I grew up, with my siblings, at school, on the field hockey field — wherever I went, there I was. Of course, there were moments in adolescence when I struggled - but for the most part I was an outgoing kid who made friends easily, and I rarely thought too hard about where I was meant to be.
I know that is not everyone's experience. Too many children grow up in environments without the sense of safety that should be every child's birthright. Perhaps this is where belonging begins — feeling safe enough to be fully yourself without fear of judgment or reprimand. But as I’ve discovered, it isn’t where it ends.
After high school I went from a small school with friends I'd known for years, to a public university where I knew no one. Identity adrift, I eventually found my footing in the structure of engineering school — not because it perfectly captured who I was, but because it gave me a container. I chose a lane, and inside that lane, I felt certainty.
After college I moved back to Boston, the pull of my home city calling me back to a place I had only known as a child. Those were the years of working hard and playing harder, weaving together a tapestry of friendships that became my chosen family. I belonged to my city and my people.
Then came 2014: I got married, moved to London, and started business school. I made a career pivot into luxury fashion, working for the British Fashion Council, consulting with emerging designers, and joining Farfetch - falling headlong into the intoxicating energy of a hyper-growth startup. I belonged to the hustle, and the hustle belonged to me.
And then motherhood arrived and changed everything — shifting my sense of belonging instantly toward tiny hands, sleepless nights and a universe that suddenly felt much smaller and infinitely bigger all at once.
In early 2020 I was 6 months pregnant with my second child, when COVID shut the doors to the world and I found myself back in the US — riding out this upside-down time in my parents’ back-house until we moved to Texas in 2021.
Texas.
It wasn’t the moving to a new place, or the starting over, that gave me pause. I had done those things before. It was that, for the first time, I was stepping into a chapter that did not arrive with a ready-made sense of identity attached. That is what I had been doing all along, isn’t it? Tethering my sense of belonging to a belief I held about my own identity.
But I didn’t ‘identify’ with Texas. It is my husband's home. It is his roots, and part of his story. In Texas, I couldn't locate myself by looking outward. There was no lane to transfer into. No crew already assembled. No chapter with my name on it.
And maybe that is exactly why living here has been such a gift.
This place has prompted me to ask: if I strip all of external variables away — the cities, the people, the jobs, the titles — then what actually is belonging?
What I have come to understand is this:
Belonging is not a byproduct of identity. It is not something you earn by living somewhere long enough, or working hard enough, or finding the right circles, or making the right impression. Those things are the evidence we gather to convince ourselves we deserve to belong. And the goalposts never stop moving.
Belonging, I've come to realize, is both much simpler and much harder than any of that.
It is being where your two feet are - irrespective of what meaning that place may or may not (YET) hold - and accepting yourself there. All of you. The beautiful parts. The messy parts. The baggage. The joy. The fear. The ego. All of it.
Not because you've earned it, or found the right city or the right people or the right job. Because you exist, right now, in this place, in this life.
Wherever you go, there you are. And you belong simply because you are here.
Simple in theory. Challenging in execution. This is the practice. And, it is why Wildflower exists - so you don't have to do it alone.
We exist to cultivate compassion and resilience in children, caregivers, and our community through mindful movement, makership, and connection. We believe in the power of nervous system literacy because when we know ourselves better, we stop searching for proof of belonging outside ourselves — and start recognizing our own intrinsic worth.
This month, that idea is at the heart of our first family-centered workshop:
Emerge & Embody.
Emerging is about allowing your truest self to rise to the surface. Embodying is about not apologizing for taking up space once you get there.
This Saturday, May 30th, caregivers and children are invited to come exactly as you are. No expectations, no performing. No needing to earn your place. Just an opportunity to move, create, and connect — together.
The morning begins with a nourishing, accessible yoga flow for grown-ups led by my wonderful friend Shannon Crow, while your little ones get an hour of mindful movement on their own terms (facilitated by yours truly!) We then come together for a joint makership activity, setting the stage for a summer that feels both playful and intentional. Details and the registration are here.
I hope you can come! Not because you have it figured out, or because you feel rooted or ready — but because showing up is the practice. Because you and your child deserve a place where belonging isn't something you earn, it's something you arrive with.
May you always remember that you belong — simply because you are here.
BEYOND THE MAT: Practicing self-acceptance and belonging at home
This section is where I share practical ways to incorporate the reflections within each newsletter into your own journey.
Creating a Calm Corner in your home
We all have big feelings.
As adults, many of us grew up with the message that certain emotions were “good” and others were “bad.” Stay calm. Don’t cry. Stop being angry. Our feelings are not problems to solve; they are information. They are proof of life!
A calm corner is a safe place you create in your home, where your children (or you) can retreat when they need a moment to come back to themselves. These intimate spaces typically include tools and props that support reflection: visual feeling charts, breathing exercises, sensory items, calming prompts, books, or mindful activities.
Calm corners can help kids understand that frustration, sadness, excitement, fear, anger, and overwhelm are not things to hide or fix. They are experiences to notice, understand, and move through. Over time, children learn a powerful lesson: they do not need to change who they are to be accepted.
At Wildflower, we believe belonging begins with feeling safe enough to be fully yourself. And perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give our children is the understanding that they belong — not because they are happy, calm, or “good,” but simply because they are here.
If you would like to create a calm corner at home, I’ve created a Wildflower Calm Corner Digital Kit filled with thoughtfully designed printables, visual tools, and prompts to help you build a space rooted in connection, self-awareness, and belonging.
PARTING THOUGHTS
Belonging is an important part of the human experience. Many of us spend our lives searching for it in places, titles, identities, friendships, and circumstances outside of ourselves. My understanding of belonging is that it is not something we earn through achievement, proximity, or perfection. Rather, it has to do with self-acceptance and self-trust. With standing exactly where your two feet are, and remembering that you do not need to prove your worthiness to take up space.
My hope for you this month is that you find small moments of freedom — opportunities to pause, reconnect with yourself, and remember that you belong, simply because you are here.
Wildflower exists to support this way of living — in step with the seasons, in tune with ourselves, and in community with one another.
Wildflowers grow best together. If these words resonated with you, or if you know someone you think would enjoy the read — please pass it on.
With love and gratitude,
Katie