MONTHLY REMINDERReader, you cannot expect people to be who they are not. Some grief comes from the gap between who we hoped someone would be and who they have shown themselves to be. Acceptance does not always mean approval; sometimes it means finally telling the truth without dressing it in potential. This month, may you release the exhausting labour of trying to make reality become more loving, available, honest, or capable than it is. REFLECTION PROMPTS:
MAY'S REFLECTION PROMPTIn May, I will choose what feels reciprocal. This might look like... There is a quiet exhaustion that comes from giving energy where it is not returned, not acknowledged, or not able to meet you. Reciprocity is less about keeping score. It's about noticing where your effort, care, attention, or time is met with something sustaining in return. This month invites you to gently reorient: toward people, practices, and environments that give back, and away from those that consistently deplete. This might look like choosing conversations where you feel heard, not just useful. 2 QUOTES WORTH PONDERING
“Sometimes what didn’t take place was the most important thing that happened.”
Source: @thefallenpoe.t
REFLECTION PROMPTS:
2. Rainer Maria Rilke on patience and the inner life: “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart.”
Source: Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
REFLECTION PROMPTS:
ESSAY: WHAT HEALING REALLY LOOKS LIKEMy new essay, What Healing Really Looks Like: The Unseen, Unspoken Journey of Grief and Repair, is now live. It sits within Volume One of my reflective essays on grief, healing, womanhood, and race, and it is one of the most personal and expansive pieces I have written so far. In this essay, I explore some of the quieter, harder, and more unspoken truths of healing: its nonlinearity, its grief, its psychosomatic depth, the body’s memory, the role of loneliness and witness, the changes healing makes to our relationships, and the social and cultural conditions that shape what healing can look like. Alongside the essay, I’ve also created a companion reflective practice on secondary losses and grief gains to help you gently explore not only what grief has taken, but what healing may be rebuilding. You can read the essay and download the reflective practice here. NOW AVAILABLE
POPULAR IN APRILYOUTUBE: How to Choose the Intention Word That’s Right for You – Part 2 of 3 (a 20-minute watch)
PODCAST EPISODE 67: The 3 friends you need (a 3-minute listen)
INSTAGRAM (@noticingwithrebeccamonique and @rbccmnq) YOUR MONTHLY BREAST CANCER REMINDERThis is your gentle monthly reminder to check your breasts and stay connected to your body. Notice what is normal for you, pay attention to changes, and seek support if something feels different. Early detection matters, and your body is worthy of your attention. You can learn the key signs and symptoms here. In August 2025 I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I shared openly about it on Instagram – the loss, grief, trauma, inner-healing and self-care that comes with it – and from that tender space I created what I needed most: a reflective journal to walk me through the first 30 days. 30 Days Through Breast Cancer is available as a free resource for anyone affected. Please feel welcome to pass it on to those who may need it. Thankfully my diagnosis was early, and my focus now is on treatment, healing, and deep listening to my body. You can find more about my journey and resources on my breast cancer page. GENTLE REFLECTIONS FOR THOSE NAVIGATING HEALTH GRIEFHealth challenges often change what the body can give, even when the mind still expects more. Energy becomes something to notice, manage, and sometimes grieve. You may find yourself recalibrating what a full day, a good day, or a possible day looks like. If this is where you are, this is not a failure of will, but a shift in capacity. This month is an invitation to work with your energy, not against it. REFLECTION PROMPTS:
SPOTIFY PLAYLISTSSoul-stirring. Empowering. Wholesome. This one’s for the moments when you remember who you are. A musical exhale—part prayer, part power, part poetic awakening. Let it carry you into the marrow of your truth, especially on days when you forget how luminous you’ve always been.
Griefy. A playlist for the ache that won’t be rushed. 'Griefy' is a tender companion for the days when your heart feels too full, too empty, or both at once. These songs don’t try to fix it—they sit with you in the softness, the silence, the sacred unraveling.
SUBSCRIBER RESOURCESRacial Trauma and Grief – Reflective Journal Who do you know would benefit from or appreciate this content? Be sure to share this muse-letter with them by forwarding on this email. USEFUL LINKSLet's stay connected. Here's where else you can find me: Website | Podcast | Blog | Instagram | Recommended Reading List* You can view the muse-letter archive here. Not yet subscribed? You can sign up to this muse-letter here. New to the mailing list? You can view the archive of the first few editions here. About this muse-letter: You're receiving this email because you've subscribed to my mailing list. You'll typically receive an email from me once a month. Rarely will I send stand-alone emails about promotions, new products or services, and partnerships. Affiliate links within my emails are marked with an asterisk (*). Update your subscription preferences: You can unsubscribe from 'Reflect with Rebecca-Monique', or manage your subscriber profile via the respective links below. |
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, small changes can still change a life. We often think change has to be dramatic to matter. A new job, a new city, a big decision, a clear turning point. But most lives are actually shaped by smaller shifts: a new habit, a boundary set, a conversation had, a walk taken, a decision made quietly, a way of thinking slowly changing. Never underestimate the direction of small changes; they are often how a life changes. REFLECTION PROMPTS: What small change has already made...
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, you’re allowed to change your mind as you go. Changing your mind isn’t a failure of commitment or clarity. Often, it’s a sign of maturity. Of listening. Of responding to new information, shifting circumstances, or a deeper understanding of yourself. Growth, grief, and healing all ask for this kind of ongoing awareness; the ability to stay with something and to gently ask, is this still right for me now? In this instance, you're not being unanchored or impulsive, but...
MONTHLY REMINDER Reader, the most enduring love is the one you practise daily with yourself. February often frames love as something to seek, secure, or perform for others. But the love that steadies you over time is quieter and closer. It shows up in how you speak to yourself, the permissions you give yourself to rest or try again, and the small choices that protect your energy and dignity. This month invites you to practise a form of love that doesn’t require an audience. REFLECTION...