A SANCTUARY FOR HEALING
I offer a sanctuary of understanding and warmth for women who have walked this path. Here, your feelings are held, your complexity is seen, and your healing is honored. Through the Pearl Moon Collection, my poetry book and healing guide, I invite you to heal your soul, one tender broken piece at a time.
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THE PEARL MOON COLLECTION
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JUNE PRINT
My name is Mikaela. I’m an artist in every sense of the word, through movement, through visuals, through storytelling. Over the years, that’s looked like many things. I’ve danced, traveled, written, lived in Ghana, and found pieces of myself in different places and forms. I’m also working toward building a rescue and community space in Ghana, West Africa, something that feels deeply tied to who I am and what I care about. But more than anything, I’m someone who feels deeply and wants to create things that make other women feel a little less alone.
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Right now, I’m in a season of starting over, building a life that feels like mine after a long time of just getting through. This space is a part of that. It’s something I’ve created with intention, softness, and a lot of honesty.
About me
THE ABORTION
DIARIES
age 21
“It was the loneliest time of my life.”
I had my abortion at 21 in 2024. I was in a mentally abusive relationship, and my partner at the time was also heavily struggling with addiction. That situation alone made me feel so isolated, and learning I was pregnant with his baby was terrifying. I love children, and I have always known that I do want to have my own family — however, not this young, not until I feel like I am mentally, physically, and financially stable enough to take care of another human being. My decision was very clear the second I found out, and if I had to go back in time, I would do it again. I was just 21, with so much to learn still, yet I was already investing so much of my energy into someone who spent so much time hurting not only me, but themselves too. That was no situation to bring another living being into.
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And as much as I was at peace with my decision, the outside wasn’t. I ended up in the hospital due to some complications and was treated with so much hostility and disgust, without my partner there, as he was too deep in his addiction to show up. It was the loneliest time of my life. I opened up to my friends, and they were incredibly supportive of my decision, but to this day, I feel like none of them really understand what it feels like. As much as I wouldn’t change my decision, it brought a different sense of loneliness into my life that still creeps in from time to time, but I am also utterly grateful to have been able to make that decision and learn to prioritize myself.
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I also want to say that I know how difficult of a thing it is to go through, especially if the other person ends up not being a part of your life after. I thought that, in a way, our souls were forever connected, that we’d always be tied to each other, that I’d seem unlovable to other people once they found out. And I believed that so deeply, I convinced myself I was never going to be able to find a loving relationship, but oh, was I wrong — and I’m so glad that I was. I am now in such an amazing and loving relationship with the kindest man I’ve ever met, who loves me even more for the things I had to go through.
Making a choice like this doesn’t make you unlovable. I personally believe it shows an immense amount of strength because acknowledging you are not in a position to take care of another human being to the extent they deserve, or that you are not ready yourself yet, and acting on that acknowledgement is not easy.
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anonymous
THE ART OF BECOMING WHOLE AGAIN
Healing rarely arrives all at once. It comes quietly, in the smallest moments, in the mornings you choose to keep going, in the nights you survive gently, in the soft decision to believe your life can still hold beauty after pain.
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For so long, I believed healing had to look perfect. I thought if I could just do everything right, I could outrun grief, undo sorrow, become whole all at once. But healing was never waiting for perfection. It was waiting for tenderness. For patience. For the messy and ordinary act of showing up for myself again and again.
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A peaceful life is not built in a single moment. It is stitched together slowly through small acts of love repeated over time. And maybe that is the miracle of healing, not that we become untouched by pain, but that we learn how to hold ourselves through it with softness.