Welcome to the Strawberry Sanctuary
A space for the tender, broken-open and rising.
Because softness is strength — and your story deserves a sanctuary.
The story behind the name…
He called me Strawberry.
I didn’t understand why at first. We met through a writing server — he read my poems, my pain, the scattered pieces of me I didn’t know were worth anything. He was the friend I never knew I needed.
He never asked me to be fixed. He simply held space and encouraged me to keep writing.
A sacred friend who saw me in my unraveling and stood beside me in the wreckage —
not to fix it, but to remind me I was still art.
Our connection was never romantic.
It was the kind of friendship that lives outside labels —
steady, quiet, and deeply known.
After he passed, strawberries became messages — soft reminders of a love that didn’t ask me to shrink.
Now I understand. He called me Strawberry because I was soft and still standing.
Sweet in my own spicy way, unhidden, rooted in resilience.
This space is for women like that.
This space is for you…
Women with Strawberry hearts <3
For the one who saw me in my silence
and called me Strawberry anyway.
You believed in the bloom before I ever did.
— J.
Your light lives on in every story I help another woman reclaim.
“She’s not like the others.
She will not beg for a seat at the table.
She will build her own house,
stitch the roof with her poems,
and let her scars decorate the windows.”
This sanctuary was created for every Strawberry Heart —
The ones who:
Were told they were too sensitive
Survived things no one saw
Are learning to rise without armor
Break cycles with whispers instead of war
You don’t need to be fearless.
You don’t need to be healed all the way.
You just have to keep growing.