A Quiet Return

A Quiet Return

Lately, I’ve started to feel small flickers again.

A paragraph that lands instead of dissolving.
A chapter that pulls me forward instead of exhausting me.
A sentence that hums quietly in my chest.

Not the roaring comeback story we love to celebrate. Just small, ordinary moments that whisper, I’m still here.

I’m learning to trust these beginnings. To let them be enough. To stop measuring recovery by output and start measuring it by presence.

This year taught me that creativity isn’t something I have to chase. It knows where to find me. It waits patiently, like a book left open on the nightstand, holding my place until I’m strong enough to keep reading.

And when I do, I’ll arrive not as the person I was before, but as someone softer, steadier, and far more compassionate toward the quiet work of healing.