Still becoming. Still being.
Being in the Middle of It
Nobody really talks about what it feels like to be in the middle of something. Not at the start, where everything is exciting, and not at the end, where you get to look back and make it make sense. Just the middle. Still figuring it out, still going, still her.
What 34 Taught Me About Joy
I used to mourn my birthdays. Not dramatically, quietly. The kind of mourning you don’t tell anyone about because it sounds ungrateful, maybe even a little strange.