The Magic of Writing and Holding Untamed Self-Love

A fortnight ago, I became a published author.
Yesterday, I held the very first official copy of Untamed Self-Love in my hands.

There are moments in life that don’t land all at once — they arrive gently, then all at once, then again in waves. This is one of those moments.
I’m still revelling in the magic.
Still letting it land.
Still breathing her in.

Writing a book is one thing.
Holding it is another entirely.

Feeling its weight.
Turning its pages.
Tracing words that once lived only in my body, my heart, my journals and my late-night reflections.

She is real now and so is everything she holds.

What once existed as whispers, questions, memories, emotions and half-formed sentences is now bound and tangible.
She has weight.
Texture.
Colour.
Presence.
And she carries not just words, but years of becoming.

Untamed Self-Love was written over two months and one week — yet the truth is, this book has been a lifetime in the making.

It was written through early mornings and quiet nights.
Through tears, pauses, deep breaths, and moments of absolute flow.
Through remembering, reclaiming, forgiving and choosing myself again and again.

The process was not linear.

There were days the words poured out effortlessly, as if they had been patiently waiting for permission to arrive — as if I was simply listening and transcribing.
There were also days when writing meant stillness.
Pausing.
Crying.
Closing my notebook and laptop to return later.

This book asked me to be honest — not polished, not perfect.
Honest.

It required presence, not performance.
Truth, not perfection.

Writing Untamed Self-Love invited me to meet parts of myself I had already outgrown, and parts I was still actively tending. It stirred grief for old versions of me, compassion for the girl who coped the best she could, and deep respect for the woman who kept choosing growth, even when it was uncomfortable.

There were moments of joy and excitement, and moments where the vulnerability felt raw and tender. Moments of “who am I to say this?” quickly followed by the quiet knowing that truth shared with integrity is never too much.

This book changed me.
It softened me.
It strengthened me.
It reminded me that self-love is not a destination — it is a daily practice. A returning. A remembering.

This book did not just come from me.
It worked on me.

Writing this book felt like an emotional initiation and alchemisation.

Pride arose — not the loud, ego-driven kind, but the grounded pride that comes from following something all the way through.
Grief arose — for the versions of myself who didn’t yet have the tools or language I now share within these pages.
Tenderness arose — a deep softening toward my own humanity.

There were moments of fear and self-doubt, and moments of quiet courage.
Woven through it all was gratitude — for every experience, teacher, relationship, client, mentor, and mirror that shaped the wisdom held here.

From the very beginning, Untamed Self-Love was never meant to be a book you simply read and place back on the shelf within your library of life.

It is an invitation.
A companion.
A mirror.

An interactive journey that gently invites you to pause, reflect, breathe, feel, write, and return home to yourself.

The practices, rituals and journal prompts woven through the pages are not theoretical. They are ones I have walked myself. Returned to. Let evolve as I evolved. Many were born in seasons where I needed grounding, softness, or clarity.

Nothing here is shared without having been lived first.

My intention was always this:
That you don’t feel taught — but accompanied.
That you don’t feel fixed — but met.
That you don’t feel rushed — but held.

Holding Untamed Self-Love now feels surreal, grounding and expansive all at once.

There is pride here that is steady and rooted.
There is gratitude that is deep and wide.
There is so much awe that something born from such vulnerability now exists in the world.

My heart feels full.
Tender.
Open.

I’m still letting it land that I get to say: I wrote a book, and even more than that — I wrote this book.

One that honours truth.
One that allows softness and courage to coexist.
One that reminds us that untamed does not mean reckless — it means rooted, conscious, embodied, and self-honouring.

If you are reading this and you have supported me — by listening, witnessing, encouraging, reading, sharing, or simply holding space — thank you.

If Untamed Self-Love finds its way into your hands, my hope is this:

May these pages meet you exactly where you are.
May they remind you that your story matters.
May they hold you lovingly as you remember who you’ve always been.

With untamed love,
Hannah 🤍