Through Blossoms And Storms

I'm 22, penning this story as much for myself as for anyone who needs to hear it. Do we ever really get over the traumas, mistakes, or fleeting joys that shape us? Or do we carry them, like shadows that linger just behind the light? At 22, I'm still learning-learning to love myself, to understand the why behind the heartbreaks and the beauty, the struggles and the moments of grace.

They told me once, be kind, and kindness will find its way back to you. For 22 years, I've been nothing but kind, giving more than I had to people who took what they needed and left me in pieces. I thought they were down for me, but they weren't. My upbringing wasn't kind either, and even now, life feels like it's holding its breath, waiting for something to break-or bloom.

Still, in the cracks of it all, there's hope. The smallest flickers, the little moments of joy, have kept me from slipping completely. Those memories are lanterns I hold onto when the nights get too dark. And maybe that's the lesson-pain doesn't just disappear. It lingers, it shapes you, but it doesn't have to define you. You're allowed to take time to heal. Take all the time you need. But promise me this: don't let it chain you.

To whoever's reading this-whether you're drowning in fresh hurt or carrying scars from years ago-I need you to know something. You are not alone. You are allowed to feel every inch of what you've been through. You're allowed to stumble and question and wonder if you'll ever be okay again.

But you are loved, even on days you can't see it. You are amazing, even when you feel like you're falling apart. And you are stronger than you know. So, hold on. It's okay to pause, to grieve, to reflect-but don't forget to look up. Because there's a whole sky waiting for you, and it's beautiful.

This is my story-messy, unfinished, human. And I'm sharing it not because I have all the answers but because I'm still searching for them too.