I know how it feels to feel unlovable. I know how it feels when you’ve been hurt in a way that makes you think you deserved it. You didn’t. Everyone told you so. You nodded whenever a friend told you that you were not guilty of your abuse, but you found your soul so broken after everything, your soul dripping black blood from her wounds, that you thought it to be the end of all possible love for you. I know how it feels. Trust me.

Rain falls outside in the darkness of the night. Fall is slowly leaving its place for winter to arrive. These are times to stay home more, have some hot tea, and look inside ourselves. It’s not December yet, but almost. Another year has passed. It feels like 2025 was filmed both in slow motion and in full speed. These last weeks I’ve felt this gnawing emptiness of having left a heavy burden behind: a nasty and painful one that I had desired for months to be freed of… Now that I have been, life at times seems like an empty forest on which snow had fallen the night before, white, pure, blindingly bright, but also silent, the trees naked without any leaves, and cold. Anxiety creeps in before the peace that I so much craved and has finally arrived.