No one warns you about the quiet moments. When a song plays, and it brings them back. When you reach for your phone, forgetting there’s no one to call. When you catch yourself smiling at a memory before the weight of absence settles in. Grief doesn’t announce itself with grand gestures. It lingers in the spaces love once filled. It sneaks into conversations, into familiar places, into the person you’ve become because they were once there. And yet, I wouldn’t trade it. Because grief is the price you pay for love. And if I had to …
Faith Is a Choice
I used to think faith was something you either had or didn’t. That some people just believed, and others didn’t, as if it was a gift you were born with. But that changed when I stood at the foot of a mountain, staring up at the peak that felt too far to reach. Doubt crept in, a voice telling me I wasn’t strong enough, that this was too much for me. But then, I remembered: faith is a choice. It wasn’t knowing for sure I could do it. It was choosing to believe I could, even when uncertainty weighed heavy. So I took one step. Then another. …
Collecting Positivity Like Scraps of Sunlight
At 12,000 feet, my legs were shot, my breath uneven. The summit wasn’t happening, and I had made my peace with that. Almost. Then, my trek leader said, “You’re doing great.” I knew she said it because I needed to hear it, not because it was true. But I clung to it anyway. Like a small flame in freezing wind. Later, when I stumbled into camp, someone offered me tea without asking. Another smiled and said, “Today was tough, huh?” Just that—no judgment, no advice. I pocketed it all. You take positivity wherever you find it. A kind …
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The Pain That Stays
I thought it would fade. That with time, it would dull, shrink, maybe even disappear. But some pains don’t listen to logic. They settle in, uninvited, making a home where I wish they wouldn’t. On my last trek, I told myself I was past it. That I had made peace with not summiting. That the self-doubt I carried wouldn’t weigh me down anymore. But then, as I watched others push ahead with ease, the familiar sting crept back in. It shouldn’t matter, I told myself. I made my choice. I don’t regret it. And yet, the ache lingers. A quiet …
What You Don’t See in the Photos
She looked effortless in the summit picture—arms raised, a wide grin, snow-capped peaks behind her. I double-tapped, then sighed. I had just come back from my own trek, where I felt like the weakest in my group. Where every incline made me question why I was here. Where I cried, not from the view, but from exhaustion and self-doubt. No one posts that part. A week later, I spoke to someone who had done the same trek. “It was brutal,” she admitted. “I almost turned back.” I stared at her, surprised. Her photos had told a different …
If Something Is Important to You, Carve Out the Time for It
I tell myself I don’t have time. I wake up late. I doomscroll. I push my workouts to “later,” knowing full well later never comes. But then I remember the time I ran between college classes and campus clubs, eating lunch on the go because I wanted to be everywhere. I remember the sleepless nights I spent learning design, not because anyone asked me to, but because I wanted to. I had no time then either. But I made it. Last week, I promised myself I’d run. Just a little. Maybe 2K. A distance that still feels like a struggle. Instead, I …
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