Lonely Doesn’t Mean Broken
Loneliness doesn’t always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it slips in quietly, even when life looks full from the outside. Full calendars. Full rooms. Full conversations. And yet, beneath all of that, there’s an ache that doesn’t quite go away. I’ve learned this week that loneliness doesn’t mean something is broken. Often, it means something has shifted—and I’m still learning how to stand where I am now.
Choosing Presence & Learning to Stay
I think we’ve been lied to about what thriving is supposed to look like. Somewhere along the way, thriving became synonymous with momentum, clarity, joy, productivity—good weeks where everything clicks and nothing hurts too badly. By that definition, this has not been a thriving week for me. But I’m starting to realize that thriving isn’t a mood or an outcome—it’s a posture. It’s not about having it together or feeling inspired. It’s about choosing presence when things are heavy, uncomfortable, and unresolved.
Anger Is Where I Go First
When things feel uncertain or overwhelming, I don’t feel anxious first. I feel angry. It’s my default response—fast, sharp, and familiar. I hate this about myself. I don’t want to live my life as an angry man, constantly irritated at the world and everyone in it. I know, logically, that my anger doesn’t actually hurt the people I’m angry at—it only eats away at me. And yet, there it is. Again and again.