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They say love arrives in many forms. I believe them, of course. I just never imagined one of mine would have impossibly soft ears, velvet eyes, and paws just a little too large for the rest of him. Somewhere along the way, my heart simply expanded without asking my permission. If you sit beside him, he'll quietly rearrange matters until some part of him is touching some part of you. Usually his adorable little bottom pressed contentedly against your leg. Apparently, this is his preferred way of loving. He approaches life with an openness I wish more of us could remember. Every dog is a potential friend. Walks are meant for lingering among the flowers. He greets the world with such unabashed delight. And when the zoomies arrive, they burst forth with such wholehearted abandon, it's as though joy itself has become too large to fit inside one small beagle body. And I'm fairly certain he believes the top of the sofa cushions exist for the sole purpose of providing him with the perfect watchtower. Perched there on his delightfully improbable lookout, he keeps vigil for the sound of his mum coming home. The moment he hears her, he launches himself towards the door. Then, the instant she opens it, all semblance of composure vanishes as he erupts into a joyful frenzy of improbable acrobatics, determined to be the first to welcome her home. I never expected my grand-puppy to occupy such a happy corner of my heart. But then, love has never paid much attention to titles. It simply recognizes another soul worth loving. And honestly... I'm so very glad it did. #beaglelove
5.13K
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4mo ago
shelley.lundquist
They say love arrives in many forms. I believe them, of course. I just never imagined one of mine would have impossibly soft ears, velvet eyes, and paws just a little too large for the rest of him. Somewhere along the way, my heart simply expanded without asking my permission. If you sit beside him, he'll quietly rearrange matters until some part of him is touching some part of you. Usually his adorable little bottom pressed contentedly against your leg. Apparently, this is his preferred way of loving. He approaches life with an openness I wish more of us could remember. Every dog is a potential friend. Walks are meant for lingering among the flowers. He greets the world with such unabashed delight. And when the zoomies arrive, they burst forth with such wholehearted abandon, it's as though joy itself has become too large to fit inside one small beagle body. And I'm fairly certain he believes the top of the sofa cushions exist for the sole purpose of providing him with the perfect watchtower. Perched there on his delightfully improbable lookout, he keeps vigil for the sound of his mum coming home. The moment he hears her, he launches himself towards the door. Then, the instant she opens it, all semblance of composure vanishes as he erupts into a joyful frenzy of improbable acrobatics, determined to be the first to welcome her home. I never expected my grand-puppy to occupy such a happy corner of my heart. But then, love has never paid much attention to titles. It simply recognizes another soul worth loving. And honestly... I'm so very glad it did. #beaglelove
I heard someone say, “Just an ordinary day,” and it got me wondering how on earth we ever decided that any of this was ordinary. Above us, clouds carrying the weight of buildings drift by as though they weigh nothing at all. Snow falls in delicate architectures of ice, each one impossibly intricate, each fashioned only once. Rivers spend centuries teaching stone how to surrender. Forests whisper to one another beneath our feet, passing nourishment and warnings through living threads hidden in the dark. Seeds can sleep beneath the earth for decades, waiting for rain to tell them it is time to wake. In the deepest ocean, creatures drift through darkness with lanterns made inside their bodies. Birds cross oceans guided by stars, while butterflies begin journeys they will never live long enough to finish, leaving the rest to generations they will never meet. The moon reaches across nearly 400,000 kilometres of darkness, and still the oceans rise to meet her. Starlight travels for millions of years, only to complete its impossible journey here, tonight, in our eyes. And then there is us. The iron in our blood was forged in the hearts of ancient stars. A scent can open a door to a room we haven't stood in since childhood. Music can make our skin prickle or break our hearts. We dream. We imagine things that have never existed and sometimes bring them into being. We tell stories, create beauty, fall in love and laugh until we can't breathe. And somehow we can stand in the midst of this strange and beautiful world and feel something stir within us simply because a piece of music is playing, the sky has changed colour, or someone we love has walked into the room. All the while, this little blue world turns silently through the dark, carrying forests and oceans, thunderstorms and fireflies, grief and laughter, first kisses and last goodbyes, every ordinary Tuesday and every moment that changes a life forever. Perhaps the loveliest absurdity is how naturally it all belongs together: the immense and the intimate, the ancient and the fleeting, the utterly inexplicable and the beautifully familiar, all woven into the same astonishing world. ©Shelley Lundquist 2026
4.38K
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3mo ago
shelley.lundquist
I heard someone say, “Just an ordinary day,” and it got me wondering how on earth we ever decided that any of this was ordinary. Above us, clouds carrying the weight of buildings drift by as though they weigh nothing at all. Snow falls in delicate architectures of ice, each one impossibly intricate, each fashioned only once. Rivers spend centuries teaching stone how to surrender. Forests whisper to one another beneath our feet, passing nourishment and warnings through living threads hidden in the dark. Seeds can sleep beneath the earth for decades, waiting for rain to tell them it is time to wake. In the deepest ocean, creatures drift through darkness with lanterns made inside their bodies. Birds cross oceans guided by stars, while butterflies begin journeys they will never live long enough to finish, leaving the rest to generations they will never meet. The moon reaches across nearly 400,000 kilometres of darkness, and still the oceans rise to meet her. Starlight travels for millions of years, only to complete its impossible journey here, tonight, in our eyes. And then there is us. The iron in our blood was forged in the hearts of ancient stars. A scent can open a door to a room we haven't stood in since childhood. Music can make our skin prickle or break our hearts. We dream. We imagine things that have never existed and sometimes bring them into being. We tell stories, create beauty, fall in love and laugh until we can't breathe. And somehow we can stand in the midst of this strange and beautiful world and feel something stir within us simply because a piece of music is playing, the sky has changed colour, or someone we love has walked into the room. All the while, this little blue world turns silently through the dark, carrying forests and oceans, thunderstorms and fireflies, grief and laughter, first kisses and last goodbyes, every ordinary Tuesday and every moment that changes a life forever. Perhaps the loveliest absurdity is how naturally it all belongs together: the immense and the intimate, the ancient and the fleeting, the utterly inexplicable and the beautifully familiar, all woven into the same astonishing world. ©Shelley Lundquist 2026
This Scottish lass likes to embrace the Irish spirit of my Celtic cousins on St. Paddy's Day! I've even been known to attempt a jig or two in my time! 'Tis a day for celebration replete with fiddles and pipes, and green beer (for some) but it's always a day for a whole lot of fun! There will be assuredly shenanigans afoot... But, such are most of my days!  And with that... May love and laughter light your days, and warm your heart and home. May good and faithful friends be yours, wherever you may roam. Whatever you do today, may your blessings be more than the shamrocks that grow, and may trouble avoid you wherever you go! #stpatricksday☘️ #scottish #celtic #Irish
4.03K
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8mo ago
shelley.lundquist
This Scottish lass likes to embrace the Irish spirit of my Celtic cousins on St. Paddy's Day! I've even been known to attempt a jig or two in my time! 'Tis a day for celebration replete with fiddles and pipes, and green beer (for some) but it's always a day for a whole lot of fun! There will be assuredly shenanigans afoot... But, such are most of my days!  And with that... May love and laughter light your days, and warm your heart and home. May good and faithful friends be yours, wherever you may roam. Whatever you do today, may your blessings be more than the shamrocks that grow, and may trouble avoid you wherever you go! #stpatricksday☘️ #scottish #celtic #Irish
There’s a strange kind of heartbreak in realizing most endings don’t announce themselves. And even when they do, nothing quite prepares you. No music swells. No warning lights flash. No one hands you a script and says, this is the last time so here's what you need to say. Sometimes the last conversation sounds completely ordinary. Sometimes the last hug is rushed. Sometimes the last “I’ll talk to you later” quietly becomes forever. And that thought has been sitting heavily with me today. Life moves so fast that we forget how sacred our ordinary moments really are. A hand on your back. A voice note. A lingering conversation in a parking lot. Someone reaching for you in the middle of their day just to tell you something small. We think there will always be more time. More chances. Another visit. Another call. Another morning. But life is unpredictable, fragile, and deeply human. So love people out loud.Tell them what they meant to you while they’re still here to hear it and you are still here to say it. Pay attention when someone is speaking instead of waiting for your turn to talk. Look people in the eyes. Stay a little longer. Send the message. Give the hug. Say the thing. Because one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person is the feeling of being truly seen. Truly heard. And, knowing they truly mattered to someone. And, maybe, that’s what stays with people in the end. Not the perfectly worded conversations or grand gestures - but the way you made them feel safe, valued, remembered, and loved. I think we often underestimate how much tenderness changes people, how much kindness lingers, and how deeply people carry the moments where someone made them feel less alone. So... if you love someone, say it. If you appreciate someone, tell them. If someone crosses your mind, reach for them. Leave people softer than you found them. Leave them lighter. Leave them knowing they mattered here. Because people may not remember every word you said, but they will remember how your presence felt.
3.98K
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6mo ago
shelley.lundquist
There’s a strange kind of heartbreak in realizing most endings don’t announce themselves. And even when they do, nothing quite prepares you. No music swells. No warning lights flash. No one hands you a script and says, this is the last time so here's what you need to say. Sometimes the last conversation sounds completely ordinary. Sometimes the last hug is rushed. Sometimes the last “I’ll talk to you later” quietly becomes forever. And that thought has been sitting heavily with me today. Life moves so fast that we forget how sacred our ordinary moments really are. A hand on your back. A voice note. A lingering conversation in a parking lot. Someone reaching for you in the middle of their day just to tell you something small. We think there will always be more time. More chances. Another visit. Another call. Another morning. But life is unpredictable, fragile, and deeply human. So love people out loud.Tell them what they meant to you while they’re still here to hear it and you are still here to say it. Pay attention when someone is speaking instead of waiting for your turn to talk. Look people in the eyes. Stay a little longer. Send the message. Give the hug. Say the thing. Because one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person is the feeling of being truly seen. Truly heard. And, knowing they truly mattered to someone. And, maybe, that’s what stays with people in the end. Not the perfectly worded conversations or grand gestures - but the way you made them feel safe, valued, remembered, and loved. I think we often underestimate how much tenderness changes people, how much kindness lingers, and how deeply people carry the moments where someone made them feel less alone. So... if you love someone, say it. If you appreciate someone, tell them. If someone crosses your mind, reach for them. Leave people softer than you found them. Leave them lighter. Leave them knowing they mattered here. Because people may not remember every word you said, but they will remember how your presence felt.
I'll be honest. Sometimes I take myself a little  too seriously. On one hand, I can be my harshest critic and on the other, I pride myself on my ability to laugh at my ridiculousness and celebrate my all-around fabulousness by being my quirky self.  Everyone who knows me well, knows I carry a clown  nose with me pretty much everywhere I go. One never knows when one might be inspired to whip it out and pop it on. Sometimes, I don this brightly colored detachable appendage and drive around with it on as I go about my day. It makes me happy to make people smile and perhaps cheer someone up with  my silliness. Sometimes I put it on just for me because it's a good stress buster. I can even occasionally be spotted skipping about the neighborhood with it... because why not? If it encourages others to be more playful - even better! I gotta be me! #beingme #quirky #fabulous #beyourself #changetheworld
3.88K
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7mo ago
shelley.lundquist
I'll be honest. Sometimes I take myself a little  too seriously. On one hand, I can be my harshest critic and on the other, I pride myself on my ability to laugh at my ridiculousness and celebrate my all-around fabulousness by being my quirky self.  Everyone who knows me well, knows I carry a clown  nose with me pretty much everywhere I go. One never knows when one might be inspired to whip it out and pop it on. Sometimes, I don this brightly colored detachable appendage and drive around with it on as I go about my day. It makes me happy to make people smile and perhaps cheer someone up with  my silliness. Sometimes I put it on just for me because it's a good stress buster. I can even occasionally be spotted skipping about the neighborhood with it... because why not? If it encourages others to be more playful - even better! I gotta be me! #beingme #quirky #fabulous #beyourself #changetheworld
A first kiss. Plunging into cold water. Hearing someone say exactly what you needed to hear. What could they possibly have in common? Each, in its own way, can reach somewhere inside you and turn all the lights on. Some of those moments arrive without so much as knocking. Others we step into willingly, with no idea how alive they're about to make us feel. Sometimes all it takes is turning up a favourite song and dancing with complete abandon, driving with the windows down and singing at the top of your lungs with your bestie as though volume might improve your singing, giggling over something that probably wasn't that funny, or tasting something new and discovering your taste buds still have a few surprises of their own. And every so often, it's something more exhilarating — the kind that sets your heart hammering and makes every nerve shout, YES. There is something wonderfully ridiculous about stepping out of a decidedly rickety airplane and discovering that terror, sheer joy and an almost impossible sense of freedom can rush through you within the same few breathtaking seconds. Sometimes it's quieter. Wrapping your arms around someone who needed it, watching a few words of encouragement bring the light back into someone's eyes, or simply bringing someone joy. There is aliveness there too, less like a thunderclap and more like a glow you carry away, knowing someone else is carrying a little of it too. Joy, fortunately, has rather questionable timing. It turns up in the middle of everything else, makes itself quite at home, and leaves the world looking a little more interesting than before. Perhaps that's the peculiar magic of these moments. For however long they last, the world seems to grow a little larger, with more corners worth turning and more reason to wonder what might be waiting just beyond what we know. And perhaps that's why there is still something irresistible about blowing the seeds from a dandelion and making a wish — because some part of us still believes there are beautiful things worth wishing for. #
3.75K
150
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2mo ago
shelley.lundquist
A first kiss. Plunging into cold water. Hearing someone say exactly what you needed to hear. What could they possibly have in common? Each, in its own way, can reach somewhere inside you and turn all the lights on. Some of those moments arrive without so much as knocking. Others we step into willingly, with no idea how alive they're about to make us feel. Sometimes all it takes is turning up a favourite song and dancing with complete abandon, driving with the windows down and singing at the top of your lungs with your bestie as though volume might improve your singing, giggling over something that probably wasn't that funny, or tasting something new and discovering your taste buds still have a few surprises of their own. And every so often, it's something more exhilarating — the kind that sets your heart hammering and makes every nerve shout, YES. There is something wonderfully ridiculous about stepping out of a decidedly rickety airplane and discovering that terror, sheer joy and an almost impossible sense of freedom can rush through you within the same few breathtaking seconds. Sometimes it's quieter. Wrapping your arms around someone who needed it, watching a few words of encouragement bring the light back into someone's eyes, or simply bringing someone joy. There is aliveness there too, less like a thunderclap and more like a glow you carry away, knowing someone else is carrying a little of it too. Joy, fortunately, has rather questionable timing. It turns up in the middle of everything else, makes itself quite at home, and leaves the world looking a little more interesting than before. Perhaps that's the peculiar magic of these moments. For however long they last, the world seems to grow a little larger, with more corners worth turning and more reason to wonder what might be waiting just beyond what we know. And perhaps that's why there is still something irresistible about blowing the seeds from a dandelion and making a wish — because some part of us still believes there are beautiful things worth wishing for. #
Be the kind of person who leaves things better than you found them. The kind who notices what others overlook. Who offers encouragement before it is asked for. Who remembers names, keeps promises, and makes room at the table. Be the kind of person who plants trees whose shade you may never sit beneath. Who shares credit, carries hope, and chooses kindness even when it costs something. Be the kind of person whose presence makes others stand a little taller, laugh a little easier, and believe a little more in themselves. Not because the world is watching. But because every life you touch becomes part of the world you leave behind. Be that person. The one you once needed. The one whose kindness becomes part of someone else's strength, and whose courage gives others permission to find their own. #kindnessmatters
3.25K
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5mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Be the kind of person who leaves things better than you found them. The kind who notices what others overlook. Who offers encouragement before it is asked for. Who remembers names, keeps promises, and makes room at the table. Be the kind of person who plants trees whose shade you may never sit beneath. Who shares credit, carries hope, and chooses kindness even when it costs something. Be the kind of person whose presence makes others stand a little taller, laugh a little easier, and believe a little more in themselves. Not because the world is watching. But because every life you touch becomes part of the world you leave behind. Be that person. The one you once needed. The one whose kindness becomes part of someone else's strength, and whose courage gives others permission to find their own. #kindnessmatters
The Pink Dreams team and friends had a blast covering the Paramount+ Canada VIP Premiere event for Taylor Sheridan's new series The Madison. Actors Elle Chapman and Toronto's Patrick J. Adams joined us on the red carpet and gave us a glimpse into Taylor Sheridan's drama debut. The star-studded cast includes Michelle Pfeiffer and Kurt Russell, playing Stacey and Preston Clyburn navigating grief and rebuilding their lives in the untamed beauty of Montana's Madison River Valley on a search for connection. The first three episodes drop on Paramount+ Canada on March 14th with the final three following on March 21st. Last two photo credits to @georgepimentel1 A special thank you to @paramountplusca for the invite! #ParamountPlusCA #themadison #montana #healing #lovestories
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8mo ago
shelley.lundquist
The Pink Dreams team and friends had a blast covering the Paramount+ Canada VIP Premiere event for Taylor Sheridan's new series The Madison. Actors Elle Chapman and Toronto's Patrick J. Adams joined us on the red carpet and gave us a glimpse into Taylor Sheridan's drama debut. The star-studded cast includes Michelle Pfeiffer and Kurt Russell, playing Stacey and Preston Clyburn navigating grief and rebuilding their lives in the untamed beauty of Montana's Madison River Valley on a search for connection. The first three episodes drop on Paramount+ Canada on March 14th with the final three following on March 21st. Last two photo credits to @georgepimentel1 A special thank you to @paramountplusca for the invite! #ParamountPlusCA #themadison #montana #healing #lovestories
There are days when a country feels less like lines drawn on a map and more like a living story we are invited to help write. Today was one of those days. I spent part of my Canada Day volunteering at the Welcome Table, dutifully scraping dishes and charming our guests, which turned out to be a far greater privilege than I could have imagined. One of our guests came back before he left simply to thank me for a hug. He told me he hadn't been hugged in a very long time and that holidays could be especially difficult when you're spending them alone. Then, with a tentative smile, he played me a few sound clips of himself singing and playing the guitar. Watching his face fill with quiet pride as he shared something he loved, I found myself hoping the evening had lifted something heavy from his shoulders. It reminded me how astonishingly little it sometimes takes to let another human being know they are seen. As I drove home, I found myself thinking that perhaps this is what I love most about Canada. Not that we have perfected the art of being a nation—we certainly haven't—but that ordinary people quietly choose kindness every single day. We are a curious people. We survive winters determined to freeze our eyelashes together and summers apparently intent on melting us straight into the pavement. We apologize to inanimate objects, consider maple syrup an entirely respectable food group, welcome people from every corner of the world who become part of the Canadian story, and have discovered that our differences have become one of our greatest strengths. We also think nothing of helping a stranger out of a snowbank, making snow angels after the first good snowfall, or writing letters to Santa at H0H 0H0 because, of course, he's Canadian. It may not all make perfect sense, but somehow it feels perfectly Canadian—and I rather love that. We are blessed with endless lakes, towering mountains, ancient forests, rugged coastlines, and skies wide enough to make the soul breathe a little deeper. Yet I suspect Canada's greatest beauty has always been its people. That is why I remain so profoundly grateful—and so very proud—to call Canada home. Happy Canada Day. �
3.13K
125
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4mo ago
shelley.lundquist
There are days when a country feels less like lines drawn on a map and more like a living story we are invited to help write. Today was one of those days. I spent part of my Canada Day volunteering at the Welcome Table, dutifully scraping dishes and charming our guests, which turned out to be a far greater privilege than I could have imagined. One of our guests came back before he left simply to thank me for a hug. He told me he hadn't been hugged in a very long time and that holidays could be especially difficult when you're spending them alone. Then, with a tentative smile, he played me a few sound clips of himself singing and playing the guitar. Watching his face fill with quiet pride as he shared something he loved, I found myself hoping the evening had lifted something heavy from his shoulders. It reminded me how astonishingly little it sometimes takes to let another human being know they are seen. As I drove home, I found myself thinking that perhaps this is what I love most about Canada. Not that we have perfected the art of being a nation—we certainly haven't—but that ordinary people quietly choose kindness every single day. We are a curious people. We survive winters determined to freeze our eyelashes together and summers apparently intent on melting us straight into the pavement. We apologize to inanimate objects, consider maple syrup an entirely respectable food group, welcome people from every corner of the world who become part of the Canadian story, and have discovered that our differences have become one of our greatest strengths. We also think nothing of helping a stranger out of a snowbank, making snow angels after the first good snowfall, or writing letters to Santa at H0H 0H0 because, of course, he's Canadian. It may not all make perfect sense, but somehow it feels perfectly Canadian—and I rather love that. We are blessed with endless lakes, towering mountains, ancient forests, rugged coastlines, and skies wide enough to make the soul breathe a little deeper. Yet I suspect Canada's greatest beauty has always been its people. That is why I remain so profoundly grateful—and so very proud—to call Canada home. Happy Canada Day. �
The Pink Dreams Team and friends had the absolute pleasure of attending the @paramountplusca Season 4 premiere of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds - and what an evening it was. The highlight was a Q&A with Anson Mount, who was every bit as compelling off-screen as he is on it. Thoughtful, eloquent, warm, and incredibly gracious, he answered each question with humour, genuine insight, and a generosity of spirit that made it easy to understand why he is so deeply admired by both his colleagues and the fans. The evening continued with a paint-and-sip night, where we traded strange new worlds for galaxies of our own, painting star-filled skies while laughing, sharing stories, and making some incredible new connections along the way. Thank you so much to @paramountplusca for the invitation and for creating such a memorable evening. Stream Season 4 of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds on Paramount+ Canada beginning July 23. #StarTrek #StrangeNewWorlds #AnsonMount  #ParamountPlusCA #BrandPartner You looked adorable @laura_alien_princess ! Photo credit @mrwillwong
3.04K
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3mo ago
shelley.lundquist
The Pink Dreams Team and friends had the absolute pleasure of attending the @paramountplusca Season 4 premiere of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds - and what an evening it was. The highlight was a Q&A with Anson Mount, who was every bit as compelling off-screen as he is on it. Thoughtful, eloquent, warm, and incredibly gracious, he answered each question with humour, genuine insight, and a generosity of spirit that made it easy to understand why he is so deeply admired by both his colleagues and the fans. The evening continued with a paint-and-sip night, where we traded strange new worlds for galaxies of our own, painting star-filled skies while laughing, sharing stories, and making some incredible new connections along the way. Thank you so much to @paramountplusca for the invitation and for creating such a memorable evening. Stream Season 4 of Star Trek: Strange New Worlds on Paramount+ Canada beginning July 23. #StarTrek #StrangeNewWorlds #AnsonMount  #ParamountPlusCA #BrandPartner You looked adorable @laura_alien_princess ! Photo credit @mrwillwong
Sometimes pain stays so long it begins answering to your name. What happened to you becomes tangled with who you believe you are. The things you survived become evidence against you. Shame slips quietly into places where it never belonged, and you carry responsibility for wounds you did not choose and wonder whether there is anything left beneath them. There is. You are not the worst thing that happened to you. You are not what someone did to you, what you endured, what you lost, or the ways you learned to survive. You don't have to be ashamed of who you became while trying to make it through. Someone can distort how you see yourself until you begin looking through their eyes too. You can live inside that reflection so long you forget there was ever another one. Your inability to see your magnificence does not mean it disappeared. It means you have been looking for yourself in a mirror, but your own eyes have forgotten how to see what is really there. Healing does not ask you to pretend it never happened. It does not rewrite the past or make what hurt you acceptable. Healing begins when you allow yourself to question what pain made feel true about you. Sometimes the smallest rebellion is enough: letting one wall come down an inch or offering yourself a little compassion because nothing you've ever been through has ever made you less worthy of it. Beyond what you can see from here are pieces of you waiting to be discovered. There is laughter still ahead, people you haven't met, and mornings that will feel fuller than the ones you know now. There are versions of you that pain has never met. There is joy that will catch you unprepared, tenderness you won't have to earn, and moments when you realize you're living, not merely surviving. And if you are so deep in it right now that you cannot imagine any of that, you do not have to. Leave room for the possibility that pain does not know everything about your future. It has already taken enough from you. It does not get to decide who you become. #HealingJourney
2.83K
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2mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Sometimes pain stays so long it begins answering to your name. What happened to you becomes tangled with who you believe you are. The things you survived become evidence against you. Shame slips quietly into places where it never belonged, and you carry responsibility for wounds you did not choose and wonder whether there is anything left beneath them. There is. You are not the worst thing that happened to you. You are not what someone did to you, what you endured, what you lost, or the ways you learned to survive. You don't have to be ashamed of who you became while trying to make it through. Someone can distort how you see yourself until you begin looking through their eyes too. You can live inside that reflection so long you forget there was ever another one. Your inability to see your magnificence does not mean it disappeared. It means you have been looking for yourself in a mirror, but your own eyes have forgotten how to see what is really there. Healing does not ask you to pretend it never happened. It does not rewrite the past or make what hurt you acceptable. Healing begins when you allow yourself to question what pain made feel true about you. Sometimes the smallest rebellion is enough: letting one wall come down an inch or offering yourself a little compassion because nothing you've ever been through has ever made you less worthy of it. Beyond what you can see from here are pieces of you waiting to be discovered. There is laughter still ahead, people you haven't met, and mornings that will feel fuller than the ones you know now. There are versions of you that pain has never met. There is joy that will catch you unprepared, tenderness you won't have to earn, and moments when you realize you're living, not merely surviving. And if you are so deep in it right now that you cannot imagine any of that, you do not have to. Leave room for the possibility that pain does not know everything about your future. It has already taken enough from you. It does not get to decide who you become. #HealingJourney
Yesterday I wandered through the world as though it had quietly remembered my name. Every path seemed worth following, every breeze carried a story, until one particularly persuasive path led me beneath a willow tree where I somehow found myself weaving a daisy chain with complete confidence that this was a perfectly sensible way for a grown woman to spend an afternoon. The moment I settled my dainty crown upon my head, the words poured forth with all the decorum of children who had been waiting far too long to be let out to play. They tumbled over one another, impatient to be heard, spilling across waiting pages until I was no longer writing them so much as trying to keep up. Every now and then one particularly persuasive sentence would pause just long enough to smile politely before wandering off, beckoning me to follow. Which, with such a gracious invitation, of course I accepted. Really, it would have been terribly rude not to. The curious thing about following words is that sometimes they lead us somewhere we hadn't expected to go. Yesterday, mine wandered into a quiet corner of my own heart that had been patiently waiting for a little more kindness... a little more tending... and perhaps a little more light. I met myself there. She looked as though she'd been carrying rather a lot, so I gave her a hug. Today, I've found myself thinking about family, friends, and all the remarkable people who quietly become part of the architecture of our lives. Perhaps that's one of life's loveliest deceptions - not that time is endless, but that love can become so familiar we forget to keep placing it into one another's hands. Because I know what it's like to wonder if I matter. So today, I simply want to move through the world a little more generously. I want the people who cross my path to leave my company feeling a little more loved than when they found me. If, along the way, I say something no one quite understands and I'm rewarded with a few perplexed looks, a couple of affectionate head shakes, and eventually laughter... well, at least I did my best to leave behind a smile. Really, it would be terribly poor manners to keep all this love to myself. 💚
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4mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Yesterday I wandered through the world as though it had quietly remembered my name. Every path seemed worth following, every breeze carried a story, until one particularly persuasive path led me beneath a willow tree where I somehow found myself weaving a daisy chain with complete confidence that this was a perfectly sensible way for a grown woman to spend an afternoon. The moment I settled my dainty crown upon my head, the words poured forth with all the decorum of children who had been waiting far too long to be let out to play. They tumbled over one another, impatient to be heard, spilling across waiting pages until I was no longer writing them so much as trying to keep up. Every now and then one particularly persuasive sentence would pause just long enough to smile politely before wandering off, beckoning me to follow. Which, with such a gracious invitation, of course I accepted. Really, it would have been terribly rude not to. The curious thing about following words is that sometimes they lead us somewhere we hadn't expected to go. Yesterday, mine wandered into a quiet corner of my own heart that had been patiently waiting for a little more kindness... a little more tending... and perhaps a little more light. I met myself there. She looked as though she'd been carrying rather a lot, so I gave her a hug. Today, I've found myself thinking about family, friends, and all the remarkable people who quietly become part of the architecture of our lives. Perhaps that's one of life's loveliest deceptions - not that time is endless, but that love can become so familiar we forget to keep placing it into one another's hands. Because I know what it's like to wonder if I matter. So today, I simply want to move through the world a little more generously. I want the people who cross my path to leave my company feeling a little more loved than when they found me. If, along the way, I say something no one quite understands and I'm rewarded with a few perplexed looks, a couple of affectionate head shakes, and eventually laughter... well, at least I did my best to leave behind a smile. Really, it would be terribly poor manners to keep all this love to myself. 💚
I didn’t expect something as simple as a sunset to shift something in me last night, but somehow it did. I looked up and everything outside was awash in violet, ember, and rose gold. The trees stood perfectly still and the whole backyard glowed in that fleeting, impossible way that makes the world feel almost suspended for a moment. And instead of just admiring it through the window, I went outside and let myself become part of it. Somewhere in the middle of the silence and colour and cool evening air, I remembered how good it feels to truly notice things again. Not just glance at life while rushing through it, but stop long enough to let yourself feel the strange magic of it all. The sky. The stillness. The way beauty keeps showing up quietly and asking nothing of us except that we pay attention. And somehow, without fanfare or revelation, that sunset lifted something in me. Just a small, gentle reminder that life is still happening around us all the time — and so much of it is beautiful if we remember to look. #healingjourney
2.68K
107
46
6mo ago
shelley.lundquist
I didn’t expect something as simple as a sunset to shift something in me last night, but somehow it did. I looked up and everything outside was awash in violet, ember, and rose gold. The trees stood perfectly still and the whole backyard glowed in that fleeting, impossible way that makes the world feel almost suspended for a moment. And instead of just admiring it through the window, I went outside and let myself become part of it. Somewhere in the middle of the silence and colour and cool evening air, I remembered how good it feels to truly notice things again. Not just glance at life while rushing through it, but stop long enough to let yourself feel the strange magic of it all. The sky. The stillness. The way beauty keeps showing up quietly and asking nothing of us except that we pay attention. And somehow, without fanfare or revelation, that sunset lifted something in me. Just a small, gentle reminder that life is still happening around us all the time — and so much of it is beautiful if we remember to look. #healingjourney
What a night! Spectacular costumes, a feast to satisfy an army of hungry ghouls, and enough laughter and revelry to wake the dead! 🎃🦇 Our guests certainly embraced the spirit of the occasion, bringing their talents and wild imaginations to life in the most outrageously entertaining ways! The tables were laden with devilishly tempting creations, including my infamous witches' fingers, while SWOL tequila flowed and a roaring bonfire kept the October chill at bay. Outside, my annual pumpkin proffering presided over the front steps, surrounded by a display that could give any Halloween haunt a run for its money! We also introduced our first Halloween ring toss, where the competition was fierce and the stakes decidedly spirited! Our very own @realmovernie claimed victory, taking home a 12-year-old bottle of Macallan Scotch for his impressive performance. 🥃🏆 And what a gathering of extraordinary souls! The house came alive with laughter, conversation, and enough mischief and mayhem to have the dearly departed rattling their coffins! Seeing everyone having such a wickedly good time made the entire month Sean and I spent conjuring up our haunted spectacle worth every cobweb, skeleton, and late-night labour of love! A heartfelt thank you to everyone who crossed our threshold, contributed to the magnificent feast, and brought their imagination, enthusiasm, and wonderfully wicked selves to the festivities. We're still grinning at the memories, and the fact that you're already clamouring for next year has set our imaginations running wild! And speaking of next year… the plotting has already begun. Bigger, bolder, with more tricks, more treats, and a few surprises we're keeping buried for now. The spirits have spoken. You've been warned! 💀🎃🔥
2.63K
105
68
1w ago
shelley.lundquist
What a night! Spectacular costumes, a feast to satisfy an army of hungry ghouls, and enough laughter and revelry to wake the dead! 🎃🦇 Our guests certainly embraced the spirit of the occasion, bringing their talents and wild imaginations to life in the most outrageously entertaining ways! The tables were laden with devilishly tempting creations, including my infamous witches' fingers, while SWOL tequila flowed and a roaring bonfire kept the October chill at bay. Outside, my annual pumpkin proffering presided over the front steps, surrounded by a display that could give any Halloween haunt a run for its money! We also introduced our first Halloween ring toss, where the competition was fierce and the stakes decidedly spirited! Our very own @realmovernie claimed victory, taking home a 12-year-old bottle of Macallan Scotch for his impressive performance. 🥃🏆 And what a gathering of extraordinary souls! The house came alive with laughter, conversation, and enough mischief and mayhem to have the dearly departed rattling their coffins! Seeing everyone having such a wickedly good time made the entire month Sean and I spent conjuring up our haunted spectacle worth every cobweb, skeleton, and late-night labour of love! A heartfelt thank you to everyone who crossed our threshold, contributed to the magnificent feast, and brought their imagination, enthusiasm, and wonderfully wicked selves to the festivities. We're still grinning at the memories, and the fact that you're already clamouring for next year has set our imaginations running wild! And speaking of next year… the plotting has already begun. Bigger, bolder, with more tricks, more treats, and a few surprises we're keeping buried for now. The spirits have spoken. You've been warned! 💀🎃🔥
Ok... I can do this. Breathe, Shelley. The idea that everything has to be perfect has never really fit my style. I believe there’s beauty in everything… I just happen to find it a lot faster in other people than in myself. So—here goes. My daughter pointed out yesterday that there are very few photos of me from the past few decades - at least very few I’ve actually let exist in public that either haven't been edited or passed muster with miraculous lighting. So I'm challenging myself to work on this... and to work on taking photos with my daughter and other people without freaking out. Between the nerve damage in my face and the full-blown internal debate every time I see a camera, posting photos has felt less like “sharing memories” and more like entering a psychological obstacle course… barefoot… in the dark… with commentary. So, here we are. A full documentary series from yesterday: • me sitting safely in the office, hair behaving (but, I had had a face treatment that left me swollen and I posted it anyway because everything doesn't have to be perfect) • me stepping outside into instant humidity chaos with the rain (you can already see me shrinking) • me - hair dried - after getting absolutely wrecked by rain on the way to our event (terrified of running into anybody I knew and of course I did) • and finally, me back home like… “this ponytail is now my personality” In the past, rain would’ve been my official excuse to cancel. "Oh no, rain, I can't possibly leave the house.” But yesterday? I showed up anyway. Wet, slightly feral, and even lower on dignity—but I showed up. And the wild part? No one cared what I looked like. Honestly… by the end, I almost didn’t either. I might’ve even enjoyed it—running around, getting soaked, splashing in puddles like an unsupervised 10-year-old. I have truly forgotten how joyful that can be. So… progress. Unhinged, slightly damp progress—but progress. There might actually be hope for me yet! #lovingme #confession #loveoverfear #selfloveclub
2.60K
104
49
6mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Ok... I can do this. Breathe, Shelley. The idea that everything has to be perfect has never really fit my style. I believe there’s beauty in everything… I just happen to find it a lot faster in other people than in myself. So—here goes. My daughter pointed out yesterday that there are very few photos of me from the past few decades - at least very few I’ve actually let exist in public that either haven't been edited or passed muster with miraculous lighting. So I'm challenging myself to work on this... and to work on taking photos with my daughter and other people without freaking out. Between the nerve damage in my face and the full-blown internal debate every time I see a camera, posting photos has felt less like “sharing memories” and more like entering a psychological obstacle course… barefoot… in the dark… with commentary. So, here we are. A full documentary series from yesterday: • me sitting safely in the office, hair behaving (but, I had had a face treatment that left me swollen and I posted it anyway because everything doesn't have to be perfect) • me stepping outside into instant humidity chaos with the rain (you can already see me shrinking) • me - hair dried - after getting absolutely wrecked by rain on the way to our event (terrified of running into anybody I knew and of course I did) • and finally, me back home like… “this ponytail is now my personality” In the past, rain would’ve been my official excuse to cancel. "Oh no, rain, I can't possibly leave the house.” But yesterday? I showed up anyway. Wet, slightly feral, and even lower on dignity—but I showed up. And the wild part? No one cared what I looked like. Honestly… by the end, I almost didn’t either. I might’ve even enjoyed it—running around, getting soaked, splashing in puddles like an unsupervised 10-year-old. I have truly forgotten how joyful that can be. So… progress. Unhinged, slightly damp progress—but progress. There might actually be hope for me yet! #lovingme #confession #loveoverfear #selfloveclub
Our latest Turning the Page with Pink Dreams Book Club selection was The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus by Emma Knight, and I have been quietly carrying this book around in my mind ever since I finished it. I spent most of the novel wondering why it carried that title. It felt beautiful and strange and slightly elusive — like it was holding onto a secret just out of reach. And then the meaning slowly revealed itself. Not in some dramatic literary thunderclap, but in that quietly surprising way that certain truths arrive — the kind that suddenly cast light backward across every page before them. Because this book is really about identity and adaptation. About the versions of ourselves we create in order to survive longing, love, motherhood, absence, expectation, and becoming... And about how human beings camouflage too. What I loved most is that the novel understands something many books miss entirely: that identity is not fixed. We become ourselves in fragments. Through silence. Through longing. Through the stories other people tell us about who we are — and the truths withheld from us. What lingered with me most were the spaces between what was said. The pauses. The restraint. The imagined inner worlds quietly humming beneath the dialogue. The book somehow invites you to step into those silences and inhabit them alongside the characters. By the end, I felt like the story had quietly wrapped one of its many arms around my heart without me even noticing. Some books shout their meaning. This one waits patiently for you to feel it. Turning the Page with Pink Dreams Book Club next meets Tuesday, May 12th at 7:00 PM 💕📚 DM me if interested in joining. #literaryfiction #bookclubs #booklover
2.55K
102
27
6mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Our latest Turning the Page with Pink Dreams Book Club selection was The Life Cycle of the Common Octopus by Emma Knight, and I have been quietly carrying this book around in my mind ever since I finished it. I spent most of the novel wondering why it carried that title. It felt beautiful and strange and slightly elusive — like it was holding onto a secret just out of reach. And then the meaning slowly revealed itself. Not in some dramatic literary thunderclap, but in that quietly surprising way that certain truths arrive — the kind that suddenly cast light backward across every page before them. Because this book is really about identity and adaptation. About the versions of ourselves we create in order to survive longing, love, motherhood, absence, expectation, and becoming... And about how human beings camouflage too. What I loved most is that the novel understands something many books miss entirely: that identity is not fixed. We become ourselves in fragments. Through silence. Through longing. Through the stories other people tell us about who we are — and the truths withheld from us. What lingered with me most were the spaces between what was said. The pauses. The restraint. The imagined inner worlds quietly humming beneath the dialogue. The book somehow invites you to step into those silences and inhabit them alongside the characters. By the end, I felt like the story had quietly wrapped one of its many arms around my heart without me even noticing. Some books shout their meaning. This one waits patiently for you to feel it. Turning the Page with Pink Dreams Book Club next meets Tuesday, May 12th at 7:00 PM 💕📚 DM me if interested in joining. #literaryfiction #bookclubs #booklover
I vividly recall the 1988 Summer Games where Ben Johnson broke the record for the 100m final, like it was yesterday. Despite that it was my mother's birthday, there I was crouched beside Ben, embroiled in the excitement, flabbergasted at his astonishing start and his unbelievable record-breaking speed, and then in a blink of my eye, the sight of Ben pointing skywards as he tore across the finish line. Okay.. maybe, I have a vivid imagination and I wasn't actually there in person, but I was crouched in front of the TV and that still counts! I was there in spirit and living vicariously along with many other proud Canadians. I also remember watching the news just 3 days later in the university cafeteria - and discovering that Ben had plunged from hero to zero and was stripped of his medal in disgrace. Ben was splashed across media outlets and painted as a villain and a cheater. I was utterly crestfallen. In Hate The Player: the Ben Johnson story, a six-part miniseries starring Canadian actor Shamier Anderson as Ben, (fitting that they are both Scarborough boys) we'll take a deep look into the rise and fall of the infamous Canadian sprinter, the systemic use of drugs in sports, and how he went from G.O.A.T. to scapegoat in this eye-opening mockumentary, Ben tells his side of the story in this playful comedy about what has been dubbed " the dirtiest race in history." Our Pink Dreams Team was at the premiere in top form serving up red carpet glam, engaging interviews, and enjoying a private screening. Meanwhile, I was at home horizontal, fraught with fomo, heating pad chic with muscle relaxers, questioning my life choices, all while trying to fend off the insistent advances of a cold as I was going down for the count. Luckily, for the rest of us who missed it, Hate the Players is streaming NOW on Paramount+ Canada! Hate The Player has a supporting cast of top notch comedic talent, including Andrew Phung, "King Bach" Karen Robinson, Mark McKinney, Ennis Esmer, Kristian Bruun & Malaika Hennie Malad. Ben Johnson quote from interview with @mrwillwong Photo credits: @megasdream #HateThePlayer #Paramountplusca #StreamingNow #BenJohnson #memories
2.51K
70
32
7mo ago
shelley.lundquist
I vividly recall the 1988 Summer Games where Ben Johnson broke the record for the 100m final, like it was yesterday. Despite that it was my mother's birthday, there I was crouched beside Ben, embroiled in the excitement, flabbergasted at his astonishing start and his unbelievable record-breaking speed, and then in a blink of my eye, the sight of Ben pointing skywards as he tore across the finish line. Okay.. maybe, I have a vivid imagination and I wasn't actually there in person, but I was crouched in front of the TV and that still counts! I was there in spirit and living vicariously along with many other proud Canadians. I also remember watching the news just 3 days later in the university cafeteria - and discovering that Ben had plunged from hero to zero and was stripped of his medal in disgrace. Ben was splashed across media outlets and painted as a villain and a cheater. I was utterly crestfallen. In Hate The Player: the Ben Johnson story, a six-part miniseries starring Canadian actor Shamier Anderson as Ben, (fitting that they are both Scarborough boys) we'll take a deep look into the rise and fall of the infamous Canadian sprinter, the systemic use of drugs in sports, and how he went from G.O.A.T. to scapegoat in this eye-opening mockumentary, Ben tells his side of the story in this playful comedy about what has been dubbed " the dirtiest race in history." Our Pink Dreams Team was at the premiere in top form serving up red carpet glam, engaging interviews, and enjoying a private screening. Meanwhile, I was at home horizontal, fraught with fomo, heating pad chic with muscle relaxers, questioning my life choices, all while trying to fend off the insistent advances of a cold as I was going down for the count. Luckily, for the rest of us who missed it, Hate the Players is streaming NOW on Paramount+ Canada! Hate The Player has a supporting cast of top notch comedic talent, including Andrew Phung, "King Bach" Karen Robinson, Mark McKinney, Ennis Esmer, Kristian Bruun & Malaika Hennie Malad. Ben Johnson quote from interview with @mrwillwong Photo credits: @megasdream #HateThePlayer #Paramountplusca #StreamingNow #BenJohnson #memories
Who knew enough bass to rearrange my internal organs would be quite so exhilarating?! I’dvenever experienced live music with enough speakers to register on the Richter scale and a production that seemed to occupy half the Toronto skyline. I was sorry to be missing the George St. Kitts Band, (my favourite band, playing their ’80s show the same night. They’re tight, ridiculously talented and know how to find a groove and stay in it. I’m on my feet, singing along and grinning from ear to ear through the whole show. Walking toward the stadium, I was doing my best to keep an open mind while trepidation and anticipation waged a rather lopsided battle. Then the bass hit me in the chest—not so much a sound as a current travelling through the air, each pulse landing like a jolt from a musical defibrillator. Instead of thinking this is much too loud, some previously undiscovered part of me shouted, YES. MORE OF THAT. Ed Sheeran was a revelation. I was familiar with a few of his songs, but had no idea of his range. He switched gears effortlessly—one moment intimate, the next commanding an entire stadium. I didn’t know he even rapped, or that he’d written so many songs for other artists. Beneath all that musical shape-shifting is a compelling storyteller. When he talked about songs coming from the extremes of what we feel, it hit home. As a songwriter myself, I know those extremes well. For three hours, he held me completely rapt. (Not to be mistaken for rapped. I don’t do that. 😁) Then Ed told 50,000 people to jump - we jumped. As a novice, I hadn’t anticipated the jumping portion of the evening. Apparently, heels were not my most strategic choice. I may have walked away with leg muscles registering a strenuous complaint, but I also walked away inspired. I’d been distressed about forgetting my earplugs, but I didn’t even need them! I’ve never been more glad to be so spectacularly wrong (a rare thing for me 😁). What else have I decided against before giving it a chance to surprise me? I left wanting more concerts, more experiences, more exhilaration. Apparently, life isn’t done surprising me yet. #edsheeran
2.38K
95
33
2mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Who knew enough bass to rearrange my internal organs would be quite so exhilarating?! I’dvenever experienced live music with enough speakers to register on the Richter scale and a production that seemed to occupy half the Toronto skyline. I was sorry to be missing the George St. Kitts Band, (my favourite band, playing their ’80s show the same night. They’re tight, ridiculously talented and know how to find a groove and stay in it. I’m on my feet, singing along and grinning from ear to ear through the whole show. Walking toward the stadium, I was doing my best to keep an open mind while trepidation and anticipation waged a rather lopsided battle. Then the bass hit me in the chest—not so much a sound as a current travelling through the air, each pulse landing like a jolt from a musical defibrillator. Instead of thinking this is much too loud, some previously undiscovered part of me shouted, YES. MORE OF THAT. Ed Sheeran was a revelation. I was familiar with a few of his songs, but had no idea of his range. He switched gears effortlessly—one moment intimate, the next commanding an entire stadium. I didn’t know he even rapped, or that he’d written so many songs for other artists. Beneath all that musical shape-shifting is a compelling storyteller. When he talked about songs coming from the extremes of what we feel, it hit home. As a songwriter myself, I know those extremes well. For three hours, he held me completely rapt. (Not to be mistaken for rapped. I don’t do that. 😁) Then Ed told 50,000 people to jump - we jumped. As a novice, I hadn’t anticipated the jumping portion of the evening. Apparently, heels were not my most strategic choice. I may have walked away with leg muscles registering a strenuous complaint, but I also walked away inspired. I’d been distressed about forgetting my earplugs, but I didn’t even need them! I’ve never been more glad to be so spectacularly wrong (a rare thing for me 😁). What else have I decided against before giving it a chance to surprise me? I left wanting more concerts, more experiences, more exhilaration. Apparently, life isn’t done surprising me yet. #edsheeran
Happy Valentine's Day, my darling man. ❤️ I don't think you have any idea how wonderful you are. Sometimes what's in my heart seems so overwhelming to ever find the perfect words to tell you how I feel about you. When you look into my eyes, I hope you can see how much I love you and how much you mean to me. I feel so blessed to share my days with you by my side - in joy and struggle alike. We are for each other a place where we grow and learn together. We accept each other for who we are and where we each are on our journeys. When I think of all the gentle loving moments we've shared and all the beautiful memories we've yet to make, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Nothing sounds better to me than spending the rest of forever with you. And wherever our journey takes us or what might happen along the way, I smile when I think of us as two cute and zany old people who are still big kids, still holding hands, still making each other laugh, and still totally in love. ❤️ #valentine #blessedbeyondmeasure #love
2.38K
95
8
9mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Happy Valentine's Day, my darling man. ❤️ I don't think you have any idea how wonderful you are. Sometimes what's in my heart seems so overwhelming to ever find the perfect words to tell you how I feel about you. When you look into my eyes, I hope you can see how much I love you and how much you mean to me. I feel so blessed to share my days with you by my side - in joy and struggle alike. We are for each other a place where we grow and learn together. We accept each other for who we are and where we each are on our journeys. When I think of all the gentle loving moments we've shared and all the beautiful memories we've yet to make, I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. Nothing sounds better to me than spending the rest of forever with you. And wherever our journey takes us or what might happen along the way, I smile when I think of us as two cute and zany old people who are still big kids, still holding hands, still making each other laugh, and still totally in love. ❤️ #valentine #blessedbeyondmeasure #love
Somewhere along the way, I learned how to disappear without ever leaving the room. I folded pieces of myself away until I fit inside whatever space I was allotted. Of course, at 59 some parts refuse to bend in the directions they once did, while others announce the attempt with an occasional snap, crackle, pop. I became quite accomplished at making myself smaller. I squashed my enthusiasm, asked fewer questions, swallowed thoughts, put away my playfulness, and tried not to care quite so visibly. I decided I was too curious, too intense, too enthusiastic, too emotional, too affectionate, too opinionated, and came with rather a lot of “too.” So, one less question, an unshared thought, a story abandoned because it was too long. Tiny edits, until I became skilled enough at folding up pieces of myself to qualify for competitive origami, packing them away in a suitcase as I went. But there was something hollow about being acceptable when I was only showing part of myself. I wanted to be seen in all my unruly splendour: hair flying, questions everywhere, enthusiasm at full volume. There was still plenty to learn and unlearn along the way, but none of it should require me to disappear. So I began taking those pieces back out. And somewhere in the unfolding, I discovered there was room for more of me than I'd allowed myself to believe. Then, recently, I noticed the suitcase had reappeared, sitting open again. I realized I was putting pieces of myself back in it. But I knew those folds, and what they cost. Thankfully, the muscle memory for unfolding is just as reliable. I lifted those pieces back out and, one by one, held them to my chest. Under interrogation, I might even admit to a tear or two at how easily I'd forgotten to make room for my own humanity. I'm all here, just a little creased. Ironing seems unwise given my tendency to scorch things, so I'll have to re-enter polite society slightly dishevelled. Oh, and I flung the damn suitcase out the front door and watched it land with a thud. If it turns up in my closet again like some cursed relic in a horror film, I'm calling an exorcist. #origami #personalgrowth #selfacceptance
2.15K
86
41
2mo ago
shelley.lundquist
Somewhere along the way, I learned how to disappear without ever leaving the room. I folded pieces of myself away until I fit inside whatever space I was allotted. Of course, at 59 some parts refuse to bend in the directions they once did, while others announce the attempt with an occasional snap, crackle, pop. I became quite accomplished at making myself smaller. I squashed my enthusiasm, asked fewer questions, swallowed thoughts, put away my playfulness, and tried not to care quite so visibly. I decided I was too curious, too intense, too enthusiastic, too emotional, too affectionate, too opinionated, and came with rather a lot of “too.” So, one less question, an unshared thought, a story abandoned because it was too long. Tiny edits, until I became skilled enough at folding up pieces of myself to qualify for competitive origami, packing them away in a suitcase as I went. But there was something hollow about being acceptable when I was only showing part of myself. I wanted to be seen in all my unruly splendour: hair flying, questions everywhere, enthusiasm at full volume. There was still plenty to learn and unlearn along the way, but none of it should require me to disappear. So I began taking those pieces back out. And somewhere in the unfolding, I discovered there was room for more of me than I'd allowed myself to believe. Then, recently, I noticed the suitcase had reappeared, sitting open again. I realized I was putting pieces of myself back in it. But I knew those folds, and what they cost. Thankfully, the muscle memory for unfolding is just as reliable. I lifted those pieces back out and, one by one, held them to my chest. Under interrogation, I might even admit to a tear or two at how easily I'd forgotten to make room for my own humanity. I'm all here, just a little creased. Ironing seems unwise given my tendency to scorch things, so I'll have to re-enter polite society slightly dishevelled. Oh, and I flung the damn suitcase out the front door and watched it land with a thud. If it turns up in my closet again like some cursed relic in a horror film, I'm calling an exorcist. #origami #personalgrowth #selfacceptance

Shelley Lundquist (@shelley.lundquist) Instagram Stats & Analytics

Shelley Lundquist (@shelley.lundquist) has 1.50K Instagram followers with a 5.50% engagement rate over the past 12 months. Across 33.0 posts, Shelley Lundquist received 3.35K total likes and 84.4K impressions, averaging 102 likes per post. This page tracks Shelley Lundquist's performance metrics, top content, and engagement trends — updated daily. To benchmark @shelley.lundquist against other accounts, use Socialpruf's Instagram competitor analysis tool.

Shelley Lundquist (@shelley.lundquist) Instagram Analytics FAQ

How many Instagram followers does Shelley Lundquist have?+
Shelley Lundquist (@shelley.lundquist) has 1.50K Instagram followers as of November 2026.
What is Shelley Lundquist's Instagram engagement rate?+
Shelley Lundquist's Instagram engagement rate is 5.50% over the last 12 months, based on 33.0 posts.
How many likes does Shelley Lundquist get on Instagram?+
Shelley Lundquist received 3.35K total likes across 33.0 posts in the last 12 months, averaging 102 likes per post.
How many Instagram impressions does Shelley Lundquist get?+
Shelley Lundquist's Instagram content generated 84.4K total impressions over the last 12 months.
Can I compare Shelley Lundquist with other Instagram accounts?+
Yes. Add @shelley.lundquist to a competitor set with Socialpruf's Instagram competitor analysis tool and benchmark it side by side with any other public accounts on views, engagement rate and follower growth, with history back to each account's first post.