Somewhere between holding on and holding us together, I lost my spark. Now I find myself searching for the woman I used to be—the one who felt alive, curious, and free.
Some losses are loud. Others happen so quietly that you only notice them when you catch yourself wondering where your laughter went, where your dreams wandered off to, or when you stopped feeling like yourself.
I kept believing that if I tried harder, loved deeper, or held on a little longer, things would eventually feel right. But somewhere in the process of preserving a relationship, I began neglecting my relationship with myself.
This is not a story about blame. It is about remembering. Remembering the woman who had her own voice, her own passions, and her own light. The woman who felt alive, curious, and free.
Perhaps the journey ahead is not about finding someone else, but finding my way back to myself.
