You know, those thoughts that float right below the surface.

My mind and body naturally shape-shift with the seasons. In the fall, our nights get longer, and I stay up through the late hours thinking more than I should. Like clockwork, the leaves change color and fall off of their branches. It reminds me of the way I cut off and sew on different parts of my mindset to keep up with the nature of my life…did you know that leaves falling every autumn is a survival mechanism for trees? It’s easy for me to relate to them. Earth is poetic by nature. The birds migrate to warmer climates for winter, every winter. A lot like how I start sensing that ‘sad for no reason’ feeling creeping up on me, and it makes me wonder what was happening in my life in all the November’s before this one. Is my body keeping some kind of score? Releasing emotions that come up on a perfectly timed cycle each year, until I really start to work through them at their core. I don’t know, I just feel a lot like fall.

Change can be beautifully painful, even if you’re moving in the direction of the sweetest things, there’s always this weird emptiness of leaving any kind of era behind but a wholeness that follows suit. So a soft spot forms, proof of a time that doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve felt like such a different person lately, but the colder months have this way of making me feel like the same girl I’ve always been. It’s a good thing, I love being reminded of my core. No matter how far I stray, I’m forever deeply rooted.

a pile of sweet stuff

pillow thoughts (a nightly occurrence)

the thoughts or feelings that come to mind when you are lying in bed, usually just before falling asleep, often considered to be more reflective, honest, and sometimes even vulnerable due to the relaxed state of mind.

I go on a super long walk down the trail that runs through my city as often as I can. I walk and walk like I never have to go back to where I came from. My mom hates it when I go so far on my own, but it’s what I do. It was the weekend before Halloween and everyone went out without me. I didn’t feel left out because I’m a softer creature than the rest of them, I needed to be with the trees. I saw the destruction from the recent hurricane all around me. Pieces of concrete shattered like glass, trees fallen, houses damaged, yet everyone was at peace with it all. Going around the mess as we do. There was a family of four ahead of me on bikes. Mom, dad, little girl, little boy, perfection. I teared up and wondered if I’d ever have the gift of that life. Normalcy. I’ve never been lucky enough to have anything normal, but I’m not really sure if I’ve ever even wanted that, it just seems nice. Anything different than what we’ve got, seems nice. I would be so good at being a mother. I thought about how I feel so lovable yet no one’s been able to love me fully, a tear fell from under my sunglasses and I actually smiled. I’m okay with only giving love, always have been. I’ve never been one to give just to receive anyway. That’s such an empty way to live. It’s okay if life wants a different path for me, it’s really okay, and I’m proud of myself for reaching that level of acceptance. But I can never know what’s in store for me and that’s what keeps me going. I’m in love with the unknown and at least she loves me back.

I learn a lot through quietly watching and listening to other humans. This teaches me quite a bit about myself too. I’m so outgoing that people can’t usually tell that I’m also deeply introverted. It takes a lot for me to go out into the world, but I do it because I love to explore even if it scares me. I’m a master at hiding my feelings, like a crab, hard shell, soft insides. I have this one friend that has such a nonchalant demeanor to the outside world, but to the trained eye, I know how they feel so much more than they let on. We’ve been friends since we were kids, so he let’s me see the soft side. The sweetest thing I’ve come to notice on multiple occasions always happens in a group setting. I’ll be chatting away with one of our friends or just playing with someone’s cat and I can always feel him admiring my energy from a far. It’s so small, but I can feel his energy beaming towards me. When I look, there’s a glimmer in his eye and a smirk forming. It’s platonic, we’re friends. I think it happens because we’re so different. It’s easy for me to interact with anyone with a waterfall of love and devotion, as if I’ve known them forever, he isn’t that way. Good thing I’m so observant because things like this remind me that I matter, and that someone or something is noticing my light even when my brain convinces me that I’m invisible. To be loved is to be seen, even platonically, is enough.

always an angel never a god

I’m so constantly full of joy that my therapist would call me her little sunshine. At the same time, I’m a deeply depressed human being, but I realized that the people around me can’t tell. I think it’s my fault, my soul can’t fathom dragging anyone else down with my energy. To my surprise, one of my close girlfriends said to me:

“You never seem stressed and you don’t like to talk about your personal feelings too much.”

That shocked me. I guess I’m scarred by how my vulnerability has been perceived in the past and I have tried to keep to myself ever since. I’m always so stressed to the point that I’ve had cystic acne for years and I thought I’d be classified as a chronic over-sharer. Maybe spilling my guts on here has given me a false sense of openness. What else could we expect from an internet angel anyway? I feel safer in the ether, it seems. Just when you think you know yourself, another layer is revealed. In real life, my sunny disposition takes over, and I feel like I have no control over that. It’s like I’m meant to lift others up but burdened to save my sadness for myself. I think being the eldest daughter has something to do with it. I feel more like an image than a girl.

I mostly open up to my mom because she really understands where I’m coming from. You have to be willing to look at me from all angles to really get it. Most people aren’t willing. Never judging, she knows my secrets and they are safe with her. She cries for me and how unfair my world has been. I know I’m lucky to be seen by one person in such a way. One person is all a girl needs. My undying gratitude keeps me afloat. All of this to say, my depression is so kind to me in a way. It’s why I find so many little things life changing, it’s why I’m so touched by the smallest joys in life, it’s why I cry when I see a family. Who would I be without my sadness? I think it’s led me to a sacred place time and time again. Do you ever feel like the gods in life are the people who are brave enough to be mean? They control everything with their audacity and small-mindedness. Has fighting fire with fire ever worked? Does it feel good to mimic the people who have hurt you the most? Do you feel avenged? I’m full of questions that I know the answers to. I know how the soul works. On earth, rigidness holds the reigns as kindness is pushed to the side. Consideration is holiness, a worthy sacrifice in my eyes. I strive to find a way to lead good people into power. We can learn a thing or two from the mean ones, like how to take up space. Everything’s nuanced.

I wouldn’t call myself a people pleaser, I’m just too tired to be argumentative. Survivors know what I mean. I’d rather let you go terrorize someone else than try to reverse a rotten apple to it’s once ripe form. I can be extremely detached in that way, I’ll let someone hurt me 100 times, but once you reach for 101 stabs in my back, I’ll finally be ready to let you go. I let people convince me of just how bad they can be, and I hate that. I’ve always had so much faith in people that I lead myself into learning things the hard way. I’ve been inventing a way to speak up without compromising my soul. It’s in the works. I don’t want to be senselessly hurtful, I’m deeply understanding, and I’ve been teaching myself how to stand up for myself in a way that leaves a trail of change behind. I don’t need my ego boosted, I don’t need to avenge myself, I need the world to be left better than I found it. A lot of people won’t get this, which means I’m on the right path. It feels so weird to know what I’m talking about but to never be able to find the right words to convey it successfully. Softness is an art, a way of life, and it’s deeper than anything I could say. I’m on a mission and all I can do is use my life as an example in real time. They’ll see or maybe only I will and that’s also enough.

the princess and the time thief

A little less than two months left, and this is the year that was simultaneously stolen and gifted to me. I beat myself up over how long it takes for me to heal, especially because of how it looks on the outside. No one knows the severity of what happened, so I feel misunderstood, almost like a disappointment. If you knew, you’d be proud of my small feats. I worked tirelessly in therapy for months to stop myself from going crazy. I learned to eat again, I gained my weight back, I gained my soul back, I learned to forgive monsters. Not for them but for me, for my own sanity. I’m proud, and I learned that time is an illusion. I’m 24 and that’s basically four years old in adult years, I’m doing great and so are you. We are always young, and we will always have our whole lives ahead of us. Energy never dies, it is only transferred to the next experience. This thought comforts me, reminds me of our true immortality. It’s why we feel connected to trees or birds or cats or trinkets, maybe we were one once upon a time. Open your mind I tell myself, you’re never trapped I tell myself, wholeheartedly.

I was eating at a local restaurant a few weeks ago when one of the police officers who worked on two of my cases was sitting with his squad three tables down. He came to me and asked if I was okay now, if I was safe now. I felt choked up as I immediately said yes, with a smile. I didn’t finish my meal after that. It all rushed back to me and I surprisingly realized how beautiful life really is. I’m only twenty-four, but life treats me as my true eternal age. I’m grateful for it, I don’t care anymore. Women are my favorite beings in the world. We live to suffer, and we transmute it all into love, beauty, and art. We open hearts, we live through atrocities, we make change, and we tell the officer that we’re okay and safe. Even when it feels like such a joke to say so. I’m so soft in the hardest way. The paradox is mind-bending. My soft spots make me who I am and allow me to share an energy that cannot be bought, only earned. Sometimes I don’t want to write because I only have words to say that are coated in melancholy, but you know what? The sweetest thing I can do is be honest with you, and it’s better to say something rather than nothing at all. Things don’t always have to be coated in sugar and that’s a pill I’m still learning to swallow. In the next two months, I will bloom, pinky promise.

sending love to wherever you are.

& thank you so much for reading.

instagram , threads, tiktok, youtube.