On building a life from instinct long before you had language for what you were actually searching for: belonging without captivity. Stability without numbness. Intimacy without self-erasure. Work that meant something. A home that felt alive.
Letter to Myself
On building a life from instinct long before you had language for what you were actually searching for: belonging without captivity. Stability without numbness. Intimacy without self-erasure. Work that meant something. A home that felt alive.