To my dearest readers,
I owe you more than just words; I owe you honesty. I’ve been silent, not because I was too busy or unwell, but because I didn’t feel like writing. And that, to me, felt like a betrayal—not just to you, but to myself. Writing has always been my sanctuary, a place where I could escape, heal, and create. But lately, I’ve been at war with my own spirit, caught in a storm I couldn’t quite weather.
I’ll admit, I’ve been devastated. Not in the way that shatters you in an instant, but in the way that slowly wears you down. It’s the quiet devastation, the kind that creeps into your mind at midnight when the world feels too loud, too cruel. Watching the chaos, the hate, the endless cycle of division—it has drained me.
We live in a world where a manipulative narcissist is preferred over a qualified woman, where basic human rights are politicized, and where the freedom to simply exist is under attack. “When will we realize that to harm one is to harm all?” I ask myself this often. Every woman deserves sovereignty over her own body. Every LGBTQ+ child deserves to walk through life unafraid. Every person deserves the dignity of being seen, heard, and respected.
I’ve struggled to reconcile these realities with the love I try to pour into my stories. But here’s the thing about devastation—it can either destroy you or transform you. And today, I choose transformation. As Audre Lorde once said, “The personal is political.” So I’m back, not just to write, but to resist, to create, and to remind myself and all of you that in our stories, we can build the worlds we want to see.
https://www.wattpad.com/story/370345319
