Welcome to Life As I See It
For the in-betweeners. The reclaimers. The ones learning to live again.
I write for people who are technically doing fine, and still quietly wondering, is this it?
For the ones between stories, between selves, between "I should be grateful" and "something's not right."
If you've ever looked around a perfectly good life and felt like a ghost in your own home, welcome. You're not broken. You're just in the middle of something real.
This isn't a space for self-improvement. It's a space for self-return. I don't offer advice. I offer perspective. And if it doesn't land, no pressure — you can delete it and go eat a snack.
Honestly, snacks help.
That perspective might show up as a story about burned-out ambition or a metaphor about socks. Sometimes it's a moment from my own life where I got it hilariously wrong and learned something quietly true. And sometimes it's just a sentence that names what you've been feeling but didn't know you were allowed to say out loud.
This isn't a place that promises clarity — it's a place that gives you breathing room. To be in-process. To feel joy even if you're not "done healing." To laugh in the middle of the mess. We spend so much time working on ourselves, we forget to be ourselves.
I'm not here to guide you to the light. I'm here to walk beside you — feet on the ground, shoes sometimes untied, wondering together what it means to live a life that feels like yours.
Who I Write For
I write for people who've outgrown the roles they were praised for and are figuring out who they are when no one's clapping. For those in transition who want to stay connected to themselves instead of disappearing into the process. For readers seeking resonance, not noise — the kind of writing that makes you think "oh, someone else gets it" instead of "here's another thing I should be doing."
This is for anyone who doesn't want to be fixed, just heard. For people who are quietly rebuilding but still want joy, who refuse to believe that healing has to be joyless or that you have to wait until you're "done" to start living.
What to Expect
For Everyone (Free)
Essays every Tuesday, and sometimes Thursday when the words won't wait.
Some are personal, some observational, and some are small moments that have been cracked open into something bigger. Each one is written to feel like a pause, the kind that doesn't ask for much, but somehow changes everything.
You'll also get access to yoga nidras — guided rest practices for when your nervous system needs to remember it's safe to slow down.
The Lingerers — $9/month or $90/year
For those who don't rush to conclusions. Who knows that sometimes the sitting is the shift. For those beginning their journey at a threshold, or those who've been there a while and aren't in any hurry to leave.
You'll receive:
Thursday Offerings — These evolve with the month. They might arrive as meditations, gentle action guides, small experiments, or invitations to inject a little more joy into your week. Think of them as creative nudges toward trying something new, settling into stillness, or simply finding the pause in your day. I'm intentionally keeping this flexible because the most meaningful offerings tend to emerge from what's actually needed in the moment.
Seasonal Companion Pages — Self-guided prompts and reflections for your own becoming, released each season.
Post-Nidra Reflections — Short, grounding audio to help integrate what rose up in stillness. Since the nidras are released monthly, these come monthly too.
Quarterly Slow Sessions — Live gatherings to pause, together, in the threshold.
Full Archive Access — Everything I've shared, even the forgotten stuff.
And the occasional surprise, because some things can't be planned.
The Ones Who Stay — $250/year
For the ones who didn't wait for it to be perfect. The ones who help shape this space simply by showing up.
Includes everything in The Lingerers, plus:
A private 1:1 session — Coaching, breathwork, reflection, or just space to speak the unspoken.
Seasonal small group circles — Unscripted, honest conversations with others in transition.
Printed Companion Pages — A physical reflection guide mailed each season.
A handwritten thank-you — Not a template. A real note from me.
If You’re New Here
Start wherever something pulls you in.
You don’t need to read in order. You don’t need to catch up.
This is a space for people figuring it out while living it.
You’re already right on time.
About Alex
I’m Alex Lovell — political psychologist, yoga therapist, and writer.
Lived homeless. Been divorced. Survived a seven-car pileup with a semi. Fell in love with questions that don’t have easy answers. I’ve met a lot of thresholds. Even the one before death.
These days, I split my time between research, writing, and holding space for people figuring out who they are after everything shifted.
This Substack is where I make sense of things out loud.
I write for people in transition — between roles, beliefs, relationships, selves.
The ones quietly wondering, “What now?” but allergic to one-size-fits-all answers.
Sometimes I quote research. Sometimes I quote my own nervous system.
One speaks in data, the other in sensation. I’ve stopped choosing sides.
