There is something tender in choosing to no longer compare. To no longer look over your shoulder at the version of you who moved faster, did more, smiled wider, and called that living. Today I granted myself permission to simply be… not better, not perfect, just here. I felt the old stories rise up again, the ones that ask why it’s taking so long, why the healing isn’t more visible, more dramatic, more worthy of applause. But I did not answer them. I let them pass, like trains I no longer needed to board.
I called my progress what it was. Mine. I gave no number to it, no scale, no stage. It was a choice made in stillness, in softness, in self-compassion. It was a breath held and then released. I did not rush to prove anything today. And in that decision, I found something even greater than achievement.
I found peace.
