This week hasn’t been soft. It clawed at me, pushed me, dared me to keep up. Between deadlines, conversations, and the endless list of “must-do’s,” I felt myself slipping away—like I was present everywhere but with myself.
I laughed, I talked, I worked, I filled my time with people and noise. And yet… my inner self sat quietly in the corner, waiting for me. Missing me.
Every distraction was a ticket on a roller coaster I never agreed to ride—fast, dizzying, and never-ending. I lost my rhythm with reading, skipped workouts, and let confusion blur the lines between what I felt and what was simply happening to me.
And in the middle of all this chaos? I noticed the void. Missing my mom. Missing people who drifted in and out of my life. Trying to stuff that empty space with “new”—new faces, new activities, new everything—only to realize I was forcing puzzle pieces where they didn’t belong. They might have fit, but they weren’t meant to stay.
So yes, the week was confusing. Sometimes angry. Sometimes euphoric. But I showed up. I cooked. I worked harder than asked. I sat in waiting rooms. I swallowed hard truths about myself and about life. I kept moving forward, even when it burned.
And you know what? Burnout can feel like victory, too. The kind you get after a brutal workout—the soreness, the sweat, the fire in your lungs—yet still the thrill of saying: I survived this. I’m stronger now.
The lesson? Be daring enough to meet yourself again. In between the world’s demands and the endless noise, stop running. Say no when you need to. Ask for what you crave. Draw the line. Push that toxic bucket away.
Because this world isn’t flawless. It’s messy. And the more you bend yourself into shapes to fit in, the quicker they’ll label you, box you, break you down. They’ll whisper that you’re “too much,” or worse, “not enough.”
Don’t buy it. Don’t let them inside your mind. Be kind, yes. But be bold. Set boundaries that protect your soul like armor. And when people leave? Thank God they did. That’s not rejection—it’s protection.
So here’s to the chaos, the confusion, the anger, the fleeting joy. Here’s to being burned, but still blooming.
Katherine's Blog 