She says her love language is physical touch. But she hates people touching her. Not because she’s cold. Not because she’s distant. But because touch means something real to her. It isn’t casual. It isn’t something she gives away freely to just anyone. For her, touch is trust. It’s safety.

For a long time I thought strength meant holding everything together. Not crying. Not needing help. Not admitting when something hurt. I believed if I stayed calm, patient, and understanding enough… everything would eventually work out. But the truth is, pretending to be strong all the t

Dear You, I know you were tired. Not the kind of tired sleep fixes. The kind where your bones felt heavy and your heart felt louder than your voice. You didn’t know how it would end. You just knew you had to make it through the day. You swallowed words. You doubted yourself. You sta

They don’t say I was broken. They say I survived what tried to break me. They don’t say I was foolish for loving. They say I loved deeply, even when it cost me. They don’t say I stayed too long. They say I believed in people the way I wish someone had believed in me. My scars would tell

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#triggers #biology #silence #Lemon8Diary #embracevulnerability

It feels like being tired but still showing up. Like noticing when my body is on edge and choosing not to ignore it. Like learning when to pause instead of react — even when I’m shaking inside. Healing feels like protecting my time and energy, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s saying stop wh

As a result of the forklift incidents, I learned the importance of reporting all safety incidents and near-misses immediately, regardless of whether there is visible damage or injury at the time. The first incident was not reported right away, which allowed conditions to remain unchanged and con

Some days healing looks loud. Other days it looks like sliced fruit on a plate. This week, someone I love quietly made me breakfast. No big moment. No announcement. Just care, shown in small pieces. The last few days haven’t felt great for either of us, but today was the first day they fe

I’m no longer carrying the weight of proving my worth to people who can’t meet me where I am. I’m leaving behind the habit of shrinking myself to keep the peace, of staying silent when something hurts just so I don’t become “too much.” I’m not carrying guilt for having needs, or shame for wantin

Lately, “showing up” hasn’t looked loud or grand. It’s been subtle. Observant. Sometimes imperfect — but present. It looked like someone noticing my silence before I had words. Not pushing me to explain. Not demanding reassurance. Just adjusting their behavior because they could feel I wasn’

A 10-year plan isn’t about controlling the future. It’s about giving yourself direction without trapping yourself. For me, a 10-year plan became a way to stop living in reaction mode — to stop surviving from one decision to the next — and start choosing my life with intention. It’s not a r

I heard something said recently that needed correcting. That schizophrenia and dissociation make people dangerous. They don’t. I spoke up when those conditions were misrepresented as a threat—then I chose to remove myself. I grew up with people in my family who live with schizophrenia.

I’ve been sitting with a decision that doesn’t look like anything people expect. It’s quiet. It’s intentional. And it’s mine. I’m choosing to be a whispering shadow. Not because I’m shrinking. Not because I’m hiding from my life. But because not everything sacred needs daylight. A whisp

November asked me to sit with discomfort instead of running from it. This month held tenderness and tension side by side. Moments of warmth, laughter, connection, and family brushed up against silence, confusion, and emotional whiplash. I learned that my body knows the truth before my mind catch