

Isn’t it wild how we spend so much time trying to “become” —
more successful, more loved, more whole —
as if we weren’t already holding all of it inside?
What if healing isn’t a destination, but a remembering?
What if peace isn’t something we chase,
but something we return to
when we stop performing, pleasing, proving?
Maybe we’re not here to build perfect versions of ourselves.
Maybe we’re here to unfold —
like flowers that don’t ask if they’re worthy of blooming.