29/06/2025
I saw a photo today. An old one.
It was me, sitting on the floor of our tiny living room, surrounded by papers, a secondhand laptop, and a cup of instant coffee that had gone cold again. I remember that moment so clearly, not because it was special, but because it was everything.
Back then, I was juggling work, grief, guilt, and dreams that felt too heavy for my tired hands. Some days, I cried quietly while my family slept, praying not for more, but just enough. Enough strength. Enough peace. Enough hope to wake up and try again.
But there were also days I laughed. Deeply. Days I sang while washing the dishes. Days I felt joy just by watching the light move across the walls.
And now?
I still cry. I still laugh. I still get scared.
But Iโve also grown. I've healed in places I thought were permanent scars.
I've learned to hold both the grief and the grace in the same hands.
If you're in the middle of your "almost," your "not-yet," your silent battles...
Please stay.
One day, your ordinary moment might be someone else's reason to believe again.
๐
