Why I started The Rooted Sparrow

If you are anything like me, you built a life that never really felt like your own. And by built, I mean you taped together scraps from the junk drawer of life and called it “good enough.”

I had a marriage that was over before it really began. I was not having the babies my parents dreamed I would. I was told “Boss Babe” energy would fill the holes of not having kids, or Sunday suppers, or a family that gathered. And in some ways, it worked. That drive got me on Food Network. It won me awards. It made me a chef people in St. Louis knew by name.

And it completely collapsed me as a human.

This is the story of a woman raised to be a people-pleasing, co-dependent, overachieving workaholic. And how at 37, I let it all fall away, in hopes of finally discovering who I really am.

When the Glue Finally Cracks

I was the glue. In my marriage. In my family. In my work. The “piece” everyone counted on to keep everything else pieced together.

When you stop fixing everyone else’s mess, you find out pretty quickly you don’t actually have much of a community at all. That truth isn’t pity. It’s reality. And it broke me in ways I didn’t see coming.

Because here’s the thing. My life hadn’t actually started. Not my life. I had been a metronome keeping time for everyone else. The beat I needed? It didn’t matter.

And when the beat finally stopped, I realized I didn’t know what my nervous system was, why it was fried, or how to even begin fixing it.

Breaking What Was Passed Down

I used to think the phrase “generational curse breaker” was dramatic. Same. But here I am, realizing that is exactly what I am trying to do.

Survival skills learned in unhealthy family systems only take you so far. They make you reliable, productive, useful. But they do not make you whole.

After months of breaking my own heart open, I realized this rebuilding wasn’t optional anymore. If I wanted to feel like I belonged in this world, I had to learn the basics of living — safety, structure, joy — things I should have had all along.

So I began writing it all down. Every lesson. Every practice. Every small hinge that moved a big door. Not because I had answers, but because surely someone else needed to hear what I so desperately needed myself.

What You Will Find Here

Wellness and Beauty
Clean swaps I actually use. Nervous system care. Supplements that help. Simple seasonal body practices.

Seasonal Living
Rental-friendly homemaking. Sunday resets. Pantry basics. Balcony planters. Autumn anchors.

Life Rebuild
Essays on finances, faith, nervous system healing, and how to start again after ashes.

Waylon’s Corner
The puppy who reminds me daily to laugh, go outside, and begin again.

What I Hope This Becomes

I hope this feels like stepping into a warm kitchen. Something simple on the stove. A dog underfoot. Someone handing you a glass of water and asking how you really are.

I hope you find ideas that make your next week lighter, and a community that makes you feel less alone. I hope you see that starting again is not punishment. It is permission.

If you’ve ever wondered what rebuilding actually looks like day to day, I wrote about how I started healing my nervous system from the ground up — from supplements to sleep — in The Supplements That Helped Me Breathe Again.

If You Are Starting Again

Here are five small things that helped me:

• Eat protein with your first meal
• Swap one personal-care product for a cleaner version when it runs out
• Pick a 15 minute home rhythm and repeat it daily
• Step into sunlight for ten minutes
• Tell one trusted person you are starting again, and what you want to be true a year from now

Thank you for being here. Truly. If you need a sign to begin, consider this it.

— Chloe