But then there’s a strange liberation in realizing that no one truly sees everything anyway. 💫 People interpret, guess, project—but none of it is the full picture. And maybe that’s the point: I can let myself feel fully, privately, without needing validation or approval.

Still, I can’t shake the question: am I guarding myself, or am I missing out on connection by being too cautious? 🤷‍♀️ Maybe vulnerability is terrifying, but maybe it’s the only way to know what it really feels like to be alive in someone else’s presence.

And maybe, just maybe, the answer isn’t out there—it’s in allowing myself to exist unedited, even if no one else understands. 🌿