This season feels different—like I’m stepping into a softer, yet braver version of myself. For weeks, I’ve been nudging my soul to write again. It doesn’t always come easily; sometimes it feels like I’m caught between what my soul craves and what life demands of me.
But today, I showed up. I’m here, pen to paper, letting the words spill. Writing feels like peeling back the layers of my heart, letting out the things I’ve been bottling up. It’s messy, a little raw, but it’s also freeing—like journaling, only louder, brighter, more alive.
Between work, daily tasks, and the little joys I cling to, there’s this subtle hum of waiting inside me. Waiting for something fresh, something just around the corner. So I scribble down my anxieties, my fears, stare them in the face, and release them. I can’t pretend it’s easy. But thank God—I have the right people around me, guiding me to channel that energy into something good.
This waiting doesn’t feel empty. It feels like reshaping, like preparing for what’s already on its way. Deep down, I sense God is leading me into a new chapter. With His grace, I’m learning to soften into myself—to allow the tears, to embrace the missing, to welcome new souls, and to discover corners of myself I didn’t know existed.
I’ve also learned to enjoy my own company. If something feels heavy or I lack the energy to deal with it, I simply step outside—buy myself a coffee, walk, smile at strangers, exchange a few words. I refuse to sit and spiral into overthinking anymore. I move. I live.
Working out has become another anchor. It fuels me, gives me hope, makes me feel light, strong, and alive. The energy shifts, the appetite balances, and I shine from within. And honestly? There’s nothing like slipping into pants that finally fit just right.
Of course, there are still hard moments. Times when fear creeps in, dragging me outside of my comfort zone. But I’ve learned that fear isn’t new. I’ve met it before, survived it before. And now, each time it comes, I reach the other side with a new aha moment—braver, stronger, more anchored in who I am.
Breaking old patterns isn’t simple. But through consistent effort, intentional release, and God’s guidance, I’m slowly rewriting the script. If He is leading me to a new path, I want to be strong enough to carry both the blessings and the weight of it—with faith, not fear.
Meanwhile, autumn is whispering in—leaves drifting down, mornings turning crisp and cozy. This morning, after a surprise sneeze, I pulled on a fuzzy hoodie and smiled at the comfort of it all.
This time around, I feel different. I see myself, I feel myself, I let myself exist. No more running. I am here. Breathing. Living. And loving it.
Katherine's Blog 