Floating Back to Myself
After weeks of drifting, a solitary swim in the Thames brought me back to myself. A moment of stillness, a lift in tension, and the quiet return to what matters.
Walking without a map
Building something real means facing doubt. I’m still walking, even without knowing the route.
What a difference a week makes
One boozy night, then a reset. This time, I caught it early—and that changed everything.
Love bombs & slow burns
Dating, chemistry, and the difference between rushing in and staying open. Still learning.
And just like that, the momentum was gone.
Three days of drinking, a foggy Tuesday, and the quiet decision to come back to myself.
The first step is the hardest
Beginning felt awkward, exposing, and necessary. Here’s what helped me finally hit publish.