Palm Sunday: I didn’t wave any branches, but I did go on a walk and thought about how easy it is to cheer when everything’s good — and how quick we are to disappear when things get tough. Palm Sunday’s like a reminder of how flaky people can be… and how I don’t want to be like that.

Monday–Wednesday: I call this the “check yourself” zone. I try to slow down, say fewer things I don’t mean, and maybe even skip dessert — not because I have to, but because I want to feel in control of something. There’s something empowering in saying “no” to chocolate for three days (okay, two and a half).

Maundy Thursday: This one always gets me. The whole “washing feet” thing might sound weird, but the message? Be humble. Serve. Love even when you know someone might hurt you. I tried it in my own way — I forgave someone who ghosted me. That counts, right?

Good Friday: I used to think of it as just a really sad day. Now I see it as raw, real, and necessary. Life has pain. But pain with purpose? That’s where healing begins. I usually light a candle and journal about something I’m ready to let go of.

Saturday is like the deep breath before something amazing. I clean. I play music. I try to open space in my apartment and in my heart for something new. No expectations. Just hope.

So yeah, my Holy Week might not be traditional. But it’s honest. It’s full of small choices, quiet reflections, and messy moments of grace. And when Easter finally shows up with all its brightness and beauty — I feel ready for it. Not perfect. Just ready.