My safeplace

06/08/2025

🤍

02/08/2025

19/07/2025

The Wound That Doesn’t Bruise

I never thought I'd write about this. Cheating. Such a simple word for something that tears through trust like wildfire. It’s not just about betrayal—it’s about the slow-burning questions that follow: Was I not enough? Was it me? Or was it always going to happen, no matter what I did?

The worst part isn’t even the act—it’s the silence after. The empty stares. The lies that sounded like truth until they didn’t. It makes you doubt your worth, your memory, your instincts. I keep replaying moments, wondering which ones were real and which were just well-played scenes.

And if I'm honest, a part of me still aches to understand. I want to hate them fully, but pieces of love still linger in the cracks. That’s what hurts the most. Love doesn't die the moment someone cheats—it dies slowly, painfully, in the quiet aftermath.

But I’m learning. That their choice reflects them, not me. That healing doesn’t mean forgetting. And that one day, this wound will scar—and I’ll carry it, not as shame, but as proof that I survived what tried to break me.

19/07/2025

Choosing Me Now

Cheating didn’t just break my heart—
it made me question everything I believed about love,
about myself.

I kept asking what I did wrong,
until I realized their betrayal wasn’t my fault.
They chose to lie. I chose to love.
And there’s no shame in that.

I’m still healing.
Still learning to trust the mirror again.
But day by day, I’m choosing myself—
and that choice feels like the beginning of something honest.
Something whole.

18/07/2025

Being independent means learning to hold yourself when no one else does, wiping your own tears and whispering, “You’re going to be okay” even when you’re not sure. It’s carrying the weight of your own world and still choosing to show up, even when everything feels too heavy. You’ve learned to clap for yourself in silence, to build strength from your scars, and to walk through loneliness without letting it define you. It hurts sometimes—being the one who always has to be strong—but you do it anyway, because you know no one else can live your life for you. And in the quiet, when it’s just you and your heart, you realize that being independent is one of the bravest things you’ve ever done.

18/07/2025

After heartbreak, you don’t wake up one morning suddenly healed. It’s more like learning how to breathe underwater—slow, awkward, and unfamiliar. You cry in grocery store aisles, laugh at something and feel guilty, scroll through old messages you know you shouldn’t, and somehow, you keep going. With every choice to keep living, you inch closer to the day where their name no longer stings—and that, quietly, is your strength.

17/07/2025

Today, I remind myself that I am not bound by where I’ve been.
The wind may whisper of all I’ve lost, but the sunrise sings of all I’ve yet to find. Walk on—each step is a verse in my becoming.

I am not the echoes of my yesterdays, but the rhythm of hope that marches on. There is light ahead, even if I can’t see it yet. Forward, where the light still waits.

Let the past be petals I’ve already shed—
beautiful, but no longer mine to hold. I choose to bloom forward, into the sun.

Even broken wings can find the sky again.
I was never meant to stay where the hurt began.
I rise, even gently—because forward is flight.

Today, I move—not with speed, but with purpose.
And that is enough.

17/07/2025

Resilience isn’t about being unbreakable.
It’s about breaking… and still choosing to piece yourself back together, even if it takes time. It’s not loud or always brave—it’s often quiet, shaky, and unsure. But it still shows up.

There were days I didn’t think I’d make it through. Days I felt tired of being strong. But somehow, I did. Maybe not with grace, maybe not without tears—but I made it. And that counts.

Resilience looks like showing up when it’s hard.
It’s choosing to try again when giving up feels easier.
It’s letting yourself feel everything, and still daring to believe in better.

I may not have all the answers.
But I have survived every version of myself I’ve ever been.
And that… is strength.