It’s kind of wild—my whole life, I knew how to be okay. I was good at it. I could brush things off, shift into love and kindness almost effortlessly. That was my default. My survival skill.

But for the first time, I’m learning what it means not to be okay—and to be okay with that. To sit in discomfort without trying to fix it or sugarcoat it. To let myself feel what needs to be felt without rushing toward peace.

In the past six months, I’ve experienced a lot of drastic changes unfolding inside me. A few falling outs left me feeling very confused about who I’ve been, what I’ve been choosing for myself, and ultimately, who I truly am.

When I first began diving deeper into the so-called “spiritual world” — meditation, energy work, inner healing, all of the beautiful practices that invite you inward — I felt like I had found something real. And in many ways, I had. It was good. It is still good. These practices brought me back to my breath, my heart, my body. They gave me tools for navigating the quiet places inside myself and offered language for the things I used to only feel but couldn’t explain.