For a long time, I thought the desire to retreat meant something in my life wasn’t working. That I needed to change everything or leave it all behind. But what if this feeling isn’t asking us to escape — only to listen more closely to what our bodies already know?
Chapter 4: We don’t always notice the slow erosion—of self, of spirit, of truth—when we stay somewhere we’ve long outgrown. This piece explores the quiet, painful cost of staying too long.
Chapter 3: We don’t cling to what feels good — we cling to what feels familiar. A reflection on unconscious reenactment in love and how the past often repeats until we heal.
Chapter 2: A poem for the woman whose heart is closed, whose body no longer reaches for touch. A quiet reminder that numbness is not failure — it’s wisdom. And beneath it all, you are still whole.
