Today was quieter and heavier than I expected. Yesterday’s 86-cent moment cracked something open in me, and I’m still processing how a whole year’s worth of strength can collapse around something so small. I’m grateful… but gratitude feels complicated when you’re telling yourself you should be grateful instead of feeling it naturally.

I rested, read, ate leftover birthday pizza and cake, and let myself slow down enough to feel what I’ve been avoiding. I questioned my confidence, my work, my programs—wondering if I’m even the right person to teach anything when I still feel broken sometimes. But maybe that’s exactly why I’m the right person.

Today I didn’t produce or prove anything. I just let myself exist. And maybe that was the medicine.