choosing to return to myself

A soft reminder that returning to yourself isn’t dramatic — it’s gentle, quiet, and deeply human.

There are days I drift

not intentionally,

but slowly, quietly,

almost without noticing.

I get caught in distraction.

In noise.

In expectations that don’t belong to me.

And then something inside me tightens.

A feeling that says, This isn’t you.

A small tug at the centre of my chest.

That’s my invitation to return.

Returning to myself isn’t a dramatic moment.

It’s subtle.

Soft.

A remembering.

It’s choosing breath over panic.

Stillness over spiralling.

Honesty over pretending.

Presence over rushing.

Sometimes returning looks like five quiet minutes alone.

Sometimes it’s journaling everything that feels heavy.

Sometimes it’s undoing the pressure I put on myself for no reason at all.

But every time I return, I feel it — that click inside my body.

That soft grounding.

That inner voice saying, 'Here. This is you. Come back.'

We leave ourselves in small ways.

We return in small ways too.

Today,

if you feel scattered,

stretched,

or a little lost

come home to yourself.

Your breath is waiting.

Your truth is waiting.

You are waiting.