After Covid hit my family, I ended up isolating in a literal castle—an Airbnb tucked away in the hills of my hometown.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

A castle, symbolic of protection and distance, became my temporary home as I stayed away from my husband, parents, and everyone I loved. It was the safest choice, but it wasn’t an easy one.

At the same time, I was chatting with a friend as part of a podcast project we were working on, Squirrely Mamas, and the conversation turned to the book we were reading in our club: Boundary Boss by Terri Cole.

That book, combined with where I found myself—alone in this quirky, character-filled castle—stirred something inside me.

The Moment It Clicked

In the quiet, surrounded by the odd charm of stone walls and vintage details, I could feel something shift.

I was reading about codependency and how easy it is to over-function for others, to take responsibility for things that don’t actually belong to us.

I saw myself clearly in those pages.

For years, I had been showing up for everyone, making sure everyone else was okay—even when it meant putting my own well-being last.

But sitting there in that castle, I asked myself the question that stopped me cold:

“Who’s taking care of me?”

The uncomfortable answer was: no one. Not even me.

The Ripple Effect

Other people’s choices—their relationship to health, boundaries, and risk—were directly affecting my life. The life I had intentionally created with my husband was suddenly disrupted, and we were separated for health reasons.

I didn’t want to give him the virus, and he didn’t want to get it. The physical distance mirrored the emotional and mental strain so many of us were feeling at that time—trying to make sense of a world that suddenly didn’t make sense.

And yet, in that space, I started to realize that taking care of myself wasn’t selfish—it was essential.

Why This Castle Matters Now

That castle, as odd and ironic as it was, became the place where I started reclaiming space—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally.

It marked the beginning of me learning how to:

Set boundaries without guilt.

Prioritize my well-being so I could show up more fully for others.

Recognize that while care and compassion for others are vital, so is compassion for myself.

The lessons I took from that castle have stuck with me.

They show up in my life, my relationships, my coaching journey, and even how I work with my Notary clients.

Because Living Real Aloha isn’t just a philosophy I apply when life feels calm or convenient. It’s how I try to navigate every situation—being fully present, intentional, and grounded in kindness, for myself and others.

This castle, strange as it sounds, became a stepping stone to that deeper version of me.

Final Reflection

As I build my book, deepen my coaching practice, and continue showing up for clients and community alike, I know this much:

The space we carve out for ourselves matters.

The boundaries we honor shape how we live and how we serve.

And sometimes, the quietest spaces—whether a canyon or a castle—hold the biggest revelations.

This is Living Real Aloha.