Hi, I'm Emilia Isabelle

While the world welcomed the New Year under a sky full of fireworks, I was tucked up in bed alone by 9.00 pm., exhausted after a Christmas season full of overwhelm, loneliness, and the all-too-familiar comfort (and curse) of binge eating.

By January 3rd, something inside me snapped- or maybe it clicked. I decided to make a commitment to myself: this year, I was going to live in the most authentic way possible. I was tired. Tired of my excuses, my patterns, my own bullsh*t. It was time to realign with the version of me that I knew was still in there, somewhere under the survival mode layers.

I made a quiet promise: this year, I would dedicate myself to myself, as a mother, a daughter, a sister, a colleague, and most importantly, as a woman trying to find her way back to herself.

Enter the TikTok algorithm.

Suddenly, my feed was flooded with videos of people completing the infamous 75 Hard challenge. It felt like a sign. This intense mental and physical endurance program seemed like exactly what I needed to reset my life- so I dove straight in.

Now, I conveniently forgot one tiny (massive) detail: I have a long and complicated history with eating disorders. In the beginning, 75 Hard felt amazing. The discipline! The routine! The momentum! But as the weeks went by, it became a perfect storm for relapse. By April, I found myself battling old habits again, trying to rebuild a healthy relationship with food.

But here’s the thing:

Even though the 75 Hard challenge didn’t go the way I planned, it taught me more than I ever expected. If I hadn’t been so thoroughly fed up with my own bullsh*t, I wouldn’t be sitting here now, in bed at 8 p.m. on a random Tuesday night, writing this feeling proud that I even started.

You might be wondering, what exactly was I fed up with?

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Allow me to explain.

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I’m a 31-year-old single mum to a beautiful six-year-old boy, currently living with my incredible parents (who have been together since they were 16!) whilst me and my son wait for our house renovation to be completed to begin our new adventure together. I’m beyond grateful for the love and support surrounding me. But gratitude doesn’t erase the truth: I had become stuck.

For too long, I’d let the aftermath of an abusive relationship keep me isolated, fearful, and stagnant.

I had spent years living like a house hermit, so much so that the only way I was going to meet anyone new was if they physically broke into my home.

Step One in Reclaiming My Life? Try New Things.

One of my first challenges was going ice skating alone on a Friday night after my son went to bed.

Quick note: ice skating solo is wildly embarrassing. Especially when you fall and realize there’s no one around to help you get up. 10/10 do not recommend if you’re easily mortified.

Was it fun? Yes.
Was it outside my comfort zone? Hell yes.
And that’s the point.

This was one of many steps (skips, jumps and stumbles) into rewriting Emilia.

This blog is going to be about the messy, imperfect, vulnerable, and brave process of rebuilding a life after survival. It’s about motherhood, healing, freedom, and saying “yes” to life- even when it’s terrifying.

If you’re tired of your own bullsh*t too, you’re in the right place.
Let’s figure this out together.