This space is for those who keep their claws sheathed on purpose. For people who value kindness, but understand that gentleness works best when it’s backed by quiet strength—and the knowledge that those claws are there if needed. Quietly Feral grew out of that tension, and out of the need to handle life’s harder moments with both care and resolve.

About Me

A little about me, the woman behind Quietly Feral.

I’m a middle school teacher. I joke that my students are part of the reason I sometimes want to go feral. After all, as the saying goes, middle school teachers must be a little crazy. While that may be true, the reality is that I love my job, and I love my students. I wouldn’t change that for the world.

They’re also not the reason I developed the quietly feral mindset. Life is.

How Quietly Feral Took Shape

Life can be hard. I’ve had more than my fair share of rough seasons. There’s a quote that says you can either laugh or cry at the hard parts of life. I spent years crying almost every day, and I’m done with the tears. I choose laughter.

The last few years, though, it feels like life has added a third option: scream. Sometimes I want to. But screaming doesn’t help you move forward—and moving forward matters to me. I want a better life, and that means finding ways to handle hard moments that don’t break me afterward.

“Bounce back” might be too optimistic a phrase. Some days, I’m not bouncing—I’m clinging. Claws dug in. Refusing to fall.

Choosing Restraint (On Purpose)

Another part of building a better life has been learning not to be a doormat.

I’ve always valued kindness and gentleness, but I’ve learned that gentleness doesn’t have to mean softness without strength. There’s power in having something feral underneath. Knowing that, if necessary, I could lash out actually helps me keep my claws sheathed. It lets me respond thoughtfully instead of reactively. Strategically, even. It’s easier to move forward when you know you’re choosing restraint, not being forced into it.

That balance—gentle on the outside, feral when necessary—is how I try to live.

Why This Space Exists

Quietly Feral is a place for humor, small comforts, and the kinds of things that make hard days more bearable. Much of it leads to laughter—sometimes light and steady, sometimes with a little scream mixed in. Either way, it’s about finding ways to move forward without losing your footing, or your sense of humor, along the way.