I didn’t plan to step away from writing for four months. I wanted to write. But life has a way of shaking things up and rearranging priorities. Between rebuilding a relationship, raising children, managing a team, pursuing an advanced degree, and navigating the tension of today’s social and political climate, there were days I barely recognized myself, much less the woman who once had the energy to write about it all. My silence wasn’t intentional. It was survival.
What I’ve learned in this time is that growth doesn’t always look like progress. Sometimes it looks like holding everything together while quietly coming undone inside. There were days I felt proud of the balance I kept, and others when I felt like I was failing in every direction at work, at home, even in love. But what I’ve come to realize is that healing isn’t linear, and strength isn’t about being unshaken. It’s about showing up for your life, even when it feels messy, unfair, or uncertain.
I used to believe that if I could just push through, I’d eventually arrive somewhere stable, and that peace would be the reward for endurance. Now I see it differently. Peace isn’t something you arrive at. I am learning it’s something you build in the middle of the chaos. It’s in the small decisions to respond with grace, to study when you’re tired, to apologize when you’re wrong, and to stay open to love even when it feels risky.
Writing again feels like reclaiming a piece of myself that got buried under all the noise. I don’t want to perform perfection or package lessons I haven’t fully learned. I just want to tell the truth about what it means to grow while managing, mothering, forgiving, and still chasing purpose.
So here I am, starting again. Not with polished wisdom, but with perspective. Not because life got easier, but because I got clearer. My voice didn’t disappear. It was simply waiting for me to slow down long enough to hear it again.
Intuitive Intuition 