Laura at Sanctuary Services

09/02/2026

Have you guys ever witnessed a cat engaging in a virtual EMDR session? Cuz until yesterday, I hadn’t! 🙀

05/20/2026

Day three hair, impulsive high ponytail, and apparently I’m going for cheer captain according to my kids 📣 So here I am — cheering you on through every session. So many of you genuinely make me laugh this hard, and in the best of ways. Thank you for that. 🤍 & cue “Thanks, it’s the trauma.”

05/15/2026

But my 1st response was WHY ARE YOU HERE 😂 ✌️🪩 👑 ✨

04/17/2026

We acknowledged a BRICK WALL of barriers 🧱 AND THEN WE TORE IT DOWN 🙌 …with both *functional skills* & HOPE! ✨ Thank you for entrusting me with your training today, Spectrum Child & Family Services!

04/13/2026

It’s that open your office window, let the fresh air in, and pretend you live in a big city with a skyline view time of year. 🌬️🏙️ But I need your help with something far more pressing…

A colleague convinced me to try builder gel nails — more affordableish, cuz lasts 3–4 weeks… 1.5 nails popped off and 3 more lifted in just under two weeks. 💀 Vote below 👇

A) Go back and get them redone for free — that’s only fair 💅

B) Try somewhere new — don’t give up on the dream ✨

C) This life is not for you, my love. Go home & pick up the ride or die Dazzle Dry . 🏠

Drop your vote in the comments! 👇😄

04/03/2026

A teenager told me this week that Good Friday should actually be called Black Friday — because it’s dark before the good. 🖤

She’s not wrong.

For those who celebrate Easter, or who are simply curious about the story at the heart of it, the whole arc — Friday to Sunday — is one of the most staggering depictions of something many trauma survivors know intimately:

You can be in the depths of grief and still be inside a story that is moving toward something.

Good Friday holds the suffering. The loss. The darkness. Nothing about it is supposed to feel okay — and the story doesn’t rush past it. It lingers there, in the weight of it.

And yet.

Easter Sunday doesn’t erase what Friday was. The wounds are still there — the Gospel stories are careful to include that detail. What changes is that the suffering is no longer the last word.

That’s the thing about trauma and healing that’s so hard to explain to people who haven’t lived it: hope and pain don’t always arrive in neat sequence. They coexist. You can carry something devastating and still be, somehow, moving toward light.

BOTH/AND.

The darkness was real. The grief was real. The Friday was as black as it gets.

And the Sunday is real too — and the light.

To everyone somewhere in that in-between space this weekend — you are not behind in the story. You might just be in Saturday. 🤍

04/03/2026