I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a hurricane. Looking out, life and people seem to whirl past me in a cartoonish blur, passing me by while I stand impossibly still. I keep trying to put my finger on exactly why I feel this way. Why I feel left behind. A little forgotten.… Continue reading The Still Point of the Hurricane
Why does the brain remember a ten-year-old workplace mortification in perfect detail, but let the sweet, quiet archives of a lifelong friendship blur at the edges? A rattling bathroom door handle sends me down the rabbit hole of how our minds catalog the moments that make us.
I’ve believing that somewhere else would finally feel like home as I’ve grappled with the discomfort of life transitions and the unknown. This season of my life is teaching me something different, though. Maybe coming home was never about finding a place. Maybe it has always been about returning to myself.
We are taught from childhood to smile through stress and insist we're “fine,” even when we’re falling apart inside. This personal reflection explores the quiet exhaustion of holding everything together, the unexpected relief of finally breaking down, and the small moment of human kindness that made it okay to not be okay.
There’s power in naming what we want out loud.Even when it’s messy.Even when it feels like too much.Especially then. But I won’t pretend it’s easy.I’ve spoken my desire and watched everything fall apart.I’ve asked for more and have been met with endings.I’ve used my voice and then questioned if I should’ve stayed quiet. So for… Continue reading What I’m Learning About Wanting
