By now I thought I’d have it all figured out. I thought I’d get a book titled “On Becoming An Adult.” I thought I’d have more answers than questions, more confidence in this voice I’m still trying to find, more lessons to teach than lessons to learn. I thought one day it’ll all make sense, it’ll fall into place. I’d wake up, stretch, and find that I fit my frame. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ But I’m still feeling my way through, asking my feet to step lightly, my hands to touch gently, my voice to never waiver. I’m still finding that who I am, where I am, and where I’ve been, are not always separate things.








