Not all at once. Not in a way you can point to and say, there, that’s when it happened. It is slower than that. Quieter. More like what I once called a strategic thinning. A leaving that does not require a suitcase. I learned early that pain does not always announce itself in a way others recognize. Sometimes it shows up as discomfort you cannot quite name. Sometimes as tension in the body. Sometimes as a question you do not yet have the language to ask. And when you try, whe

There’s a version of me that used to pick books for escape. This is not that version. Lately, the books I keep within arm’s reach feel less like entertainment and more like evidence. Like companions. Like mirrors I didn’t ask for but needed anyway. Right now, my nightstand looks like this: Bad Cree by Jessica Johns Stag Dance by Torrey Peters The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab Leading with the Heart by Mike Krzyzewski Spinning by Tillie Walden Hunger by Roxane G