It’s been barely a month since I stepped into this new world as an author — still learning, still finding my rhythm — and yet, somehow, I’ve already met the kind of people I used to only dream about.
Writers, readers, and kindred spirits who understand that storytelling isn’t just about books — it’s about the courage to be seen, to share a piece of yourself, and to recognize that piece in someone else.

I didn’t expect this.
When I started, I simply wanted to express what I’ve learned about living, healing, and growing — to leave a trace of meaning behind.
But what I found instead was connection: proof that honesty attracts honesty, that authenticity has its own quiet magnetism.

There’s a particular joy in realizing that you don’t have to explain yourself to the right people — they just feel you.
They appear, almost effortlessly, like constellations forming around the same light.

So here’s to the first month — and to the tribe that’s beginning to take shape.
May we keep finding each other, one story at a time. 🌿