I just wanted to share a small update with you all, with openness and care. In honouring what this space stands for — honesty, gentle growth, and safety — I’m going to be taking a short step back from posting while I prioritise my own journey for a moment. Living with bipolar comes in waves, and this is one of those times where slowing down is part of staying well. I’ll still be keeping an eye on messages and responding in my own time, and please continue to use this space exactly as it’s intended — to share, reflect, connect, and support one another. This community doesn’t pause just because I do. I’ll be posting again soon. Right now, I’m choosing to honour this moment so that when I do show up, I can do so from a place that’s safe, grounded, and stable — for myself and for everyone here. A gentle reminder for you too:Your journey doesn’t need to look consistent to be valid. Growth happens in phases — forward movement, rest, reflection, and repair all count. Honouring where you are today is not giving up; it’s self-respect. Please be gentle with yourself, especially in the quieter seasons. Thank you for being here, for holding this space with care, and for allowing humanity to exist alongside growth.Sending you all love and support 🤍

I learned to survive by rescuing. I learned to stay by staying quiet. But the part of me I silenced didn’t disappear — it turned into anxiety, grief, and exhaustion. This is what shadow integration actually looks like. Not fixing yourself. Letting yourself speak.

POV: You're having a full-on chat with your favorite person (you), and someone catches you mid-monologue. Cue that awkward moment when they think you're talking to them, and you're like: 'Oh no, just having a meeting with my inner committee!