March’s Wee Moments
Reflection Post
March friggin’ broke me, if I’m honest. My health was in complete crisis tests, infections, bloodwork, the whole cycle of medical overwhelm. My mental health tanked alongside it, and with that came the dissociation I’ve learned to recognise as both enemy and messenger. Some people showed their true colours and bailed, and it left me questioning my self-worth in ways that cut deep. Do I even want to dabble in this dating world again? Do I trust myself to be vulnerable? I struggled with body issues, shame, and feeling like I wasn’t enough, like my skin, my body, my presence were too much and not enough all at once.
I took myself on a wee holiday to reset, to reconnect with me. It wasn’t luxury. It was necessity. Time to breathe, to step away from the noise, to remember who I am when no one else is watching. I’m still battling my health fighting an infection that has completely maggoted me and some days it feels impossible.
But even amongst all the chaos, there were glimmers. Tiny, imperfect, but real.
The Quiet Ones That Kept Me Going
The slow mornings I didn’t rush. Just me, coffee, soft light, and a moment to remember I don’t always have to be productive.
The sunsets that held me together. Those fleeting colours across the sky reminded me I’m alive, even when my body and mind feel like they’re betraying me.
The laughs with my bestie that doubled as therapy. No judgement, no advice, just presence the kind of support that heals in silence.
The nanny moments that reminded me why I keep showing up. The little humans in my life keep me grounded, remind me that love is active, not performative.
Some days were heavy. Some moments were everything.
There was no glow up. No perfect story. No highlight reel to post. And that’s okay. Because real life isn’t neat, and healing isn’t linear.
These moments the quiet, messy, beautiful, and sometimes ugly ones are proof I was here. Proof I showed up, even when it hurt. Proof I am surviving, even when I feel broken.
Just living it, feeling it, getting through it.