Every callus on these hands tells a story.

I spent months thinking about what they thought of me.

This question keeps me up at night. In my faith, we're taught that God is good. God is just.

Autumn is my favorite time in the village because it's honest.

I have this habit where I over-explain myself. If someone seems upset with me, I'll try to explain why I did what I did. If someone misunderstands me, I'll try to clarify.

This morning I was making bread, and I wasn't thinking about anything.

I get hurt easily. I care too much about things that probably don't matter. I feel other people's pain like it's my own. And everyone keeps telling me that I need to toughen up, to not take things so personally, to develop thicker skin. Like sensitivity is a weakness I should be trying to fix. 😕

I'm going to tell you something very important and special in my life, I'm going to share a little bit about myself

For so long I said yes to everything. Yes to plans I didn't want to make.

I've been taught that a good woman puts everyone else first. Her family, her husband, her children—they come before her own needs. And I believe in that. I do. But I'm starting to understand that you can't pour from an empty cup. You just can't. 🌹

This is something I haven't talked about much, but it's been weighing on me.

When I work in the garden with my mother, I don't think about what's trending or what people are talking about on their phones. I think about the soil, about the seasons, about what will grow and what won't. There's something honest about working with your hands. 🌱

I have this thing where I get really excited about something, and I can picture it so clearly in my head—like it's already happening. A perfect moment, a perfect life, a perfect version of me. And I feel happy just thinking about it. But then I go to sleep, and the next day everything feels different. Reality is messier. I'm messier. And I start wondering if I was just running away. 😕

Like I'm so tired of this expectation that we're all supposed to be fine all the time, happy all the time, thriving all the time, and if we're not then we're either complaining or being negative or bringing down the vibe or whatever.

Nothing that needs special care or comes from expensive seeds ordered online 🌿

Like you can be really close with someone for months or even years and then suddenly everything changes and you're not sure what happened or when it happened exactly but it definitely happened and now things are just... different.

I wanted this blog of mine to be honest, not beautiful. Without any big words, just who I really am.

About honest reflections, a winter pause, and a life without illusions after the festive noise.

About home as a space of mental stability, small rituals and real self-care in winter.

About inner fatigue, silence after the holidays, and permission to be imperfect during the cold season.