So here I am — not wiser, exactly. Just softer in some hard places, and harder in the soft ones that used to break. Older 4 me means I finally stopped asking “Am I too much?” and started asking “Does this love — this life — have room for all of me?”
Here’s a short piece titled — written as a reflective, lyrical monologue. "Older 4 Me" older 4 me
I'm older for me now — not for the version of me who once mapped out ages like milestones: By 25, clarity. By 30, courage. By now, peace. Peace didn't come. What came was a deeper kind of weather. Gray skies I don't run from anymore. Storms I sit through with a cup of something warm and a forgiveness I had to grow just to hold. So here I am — not wiser, exactly