A Path to Resilience & Reclaimed Identity

Late winter never leaves cleanly. It lingers in the ground, in the air, in the spaces where things should have already begun to move again but haven’t. I didn’t come here for the view. I came because this is one of the only places left where I can’t avoid what’s starting to surface. The canal holds that same kind of stillness. Not empty. Not peaceful in the way people describe peace. But contained, stagnant and held all at the same time. Like something that has learned how to

There are some souls who do not arrive loudly. They do not crash into your life or demand to be understood. They enter quietly, carrying a kind of watchful stillness, as if they have already learned the cost of being seen too quickly. They linger at the edges. Observing. Measuring. Waiting. He was like that. There was always a quiet gravity between us, something unseen, almost sacred, like a thread pulled taut across lifetimes. Not visible, but felt. A tension that hummed jus

By the time I entered my final marriage, the architecture no longer needed to be explained. It reflected back at me. Familiar. Distorted. A glass tower built not to confine physically, but to reshape perception. To make you question what you see. What you feel. What you know to be true. At first, the structure was almost beautiful. Clear. Open. Promising. But glass has a way of becoming a mirror when the light shifts. And soon, everything I saw began reflecting back something