A fresh start with a fart

It’s been ages since I last laid my not-so-manicured fingers on this blog. Like bumping into an old flame, I almost forgot how good it felt to be here  typing my thoughts into the void, wondering if anyone’s still listening. So much has happened, and yet… I don’t know where to begin. Maybe because, lately, my life feels like one big unfinished sentence. Friendship problems? Check. Career crisis? Double check. Existential meltdown? Let’s just say I’m collecting them like designer handbags. But life has a funny way of surprising you when you least expect it. For a while, I found myself in complete solitude. Crying alone, spiraling quietly, replaying every conversation where I felt unseen. I used to think opening up would make things better that if I explained my chaos enough, people would finally understand. But now? I’ve learned that sometimes, silence is its own kind of therapy.

Last week, things got dark, really dark. Anxiety took over, and everything felt uncertain. So I did what any emotionally overwhelmed adult would do: I disappeared. No texts, no calls, no social media. Just me, my thoughts, and a scary amount of takeaway coffee. I was angry at the world, at the timing, at the fact that I worked so hard in school only to end up… stuck. I couldn’t stop comparing myself to people who seemed to have it all figured out the ones who landed jobs effortlessly, while I was still refreshing my inbox, waiting for an interview that never came. And then, one night, I did something I hadn’t done in a while, I prayed. Not out of desperation, but out of surrender. I stopped trying to make people understand me and started focusing on what I could control: faith, effort, and hope.

Two months later, something shifted. The universe or maybe my Wi-Fi connection, finally came through. Interviews started coming in. Opportunities, little glimmers of light, began to appear. I didn’t tell anyone. Not because I didn’t want to share, but because for once, I wanted to let things bloom quietly. And as I sat there, typing away at 2 a.m, it hit me: maybe the key to peace isn’t in being understood, it’s in staying grounded, silent, and patient.

Or as I like to call it now:

“Until it’s done, tell none.”

Because sometimes, the best stories don’t need an audience, just a little faith that the ending will be worth the wait.