I'm Not Pretending Anymore

I’m tired of pretending to be this upbeat person, constantly spilling out slews of positivity like it’s my full-time job.

That’s not me.

I’m a moody person with a very heavy heart—one that yearns for the dark spaces in the world and the cracks in the pavement most people avoid.

I walk toward the darkness where the fog brews, while everyone else runs toward the light. I want to discover the unknown.

I’m the one sitting at a random bus stop in the rain, because that’s where I do my best thinking.

I thrive when the sun sets and the world goes quiet.

I’m not the person with an aesthetic morning routine, overdosing on vitamin D. That’s just not me.

I’m a heavy soul. Wandering into the abyss that scares the rest of the world.

And I’m done pretending otherwise.

I’m going to write what comes to me at the deepest hour of the night.

I’m going to pour out the heavy emotions most people are scared to face.

I’m going to breathe life into the darkness—because without it, the light wouldn’t be so scared.

This is who I am.

Most days, I’m moody and quiet. Some days, I’m bursting with joy. But just because I’m not always smiling or basking in the sun doesn’t mean I’m angry. My silence means I’m at peace.

And if you don’t like it?

There’s the door.

Welcome to Letters in the Liminal Margins—a space for the moody, the soft, the misunderstood, and the sacred in-between. I’m not writing for the algorithm anymore. I’m writing for the quiet souls who read in the dark and feel too much. I hope you find yourself here.