March: Between Fear and a Comeback

There are seasons that arrive quietly, and there are months that knock loudly on your chest. March feels like both. It is coming with change, and I can already feel its weight before it even begins.

I am stepping into something new again. A new project, new clients, new teammates, new managers, and new expectations. Even just thinking about it makes my introvert self shrink a little. There is a quiet voice inside me whispering, “Can we not?” It is the kind of fear that does not shout but lingers, the kind that makes you hesitate before stepping into unfamiliar rooms.

But this time, I am choosing to speak to myself more gently. I told myself that it is okay. Not everything new is something to fear, and not every unfamiliar space is meant to break me. Some experiences are meant to stretch me, even if they feel uncomfortable at first. Growth does not always feel safe, and maybe it was never meant to.

So I made a quiet promise to myself. I do not have to shine this March. I do not have to impress anyone or become the best version of myself overnight. I just need to survive. I just need to show up, breathe, learn slowly, and rest when I can. For now, that is enough.

But life has a way of layering emotions instead of keeping them simple. Just when I was settling into my worries, something else began to bloom. The comeback. The return of the group that has held me together on days when I could not hold myself. Their music has always been a kind of comfort, the kind that understands without asking and stays without demanding anything in return.

Suddenly, March is not just a month I have to endure. It is also something I can look forward to. And now, I find myself holding so many emotions at once. I feel excited and happy, but also nervous, worried, and frustrated. It is a mix that does not settle, a quiet storm inside someone who is already trying to stay calm.

It is overwhelming, but maybe this is what being human looks like. Maybe growth does not come in clean and simple emotions. Maybe it arrives messy, where fear and hope exist side by side, where anxiety and anticipation walk together. Maybe it is okay that I am scared of new beginnings while also feeling excited for something familiar.

March is teaching me that I do not have to choose just one feeling to be valid. I can be nervous about meeting new people and still be excited to hear new music. I can worry about expectations and still allow myself moments of happiness. I can feel like I am starting over while also feeling like I am coming home.

And maybe surviving March does not mean pushing everything down or pretending I am okay all the time. Maybe it means letting everything exist as it is. The fear, the joy, the uncertainty, and the comfort. All of it can stay.

So this March, I will walk into unfamiliar spaces with quiet courage. I will allow myself to feel nervous without shame, and I will hold on to the things that bring me comfort, no matter how small they seem. I will remind myself that I have made it through difficult months before, even when I thought I could not.

This is just another month. It may be messy, loud, and overwhelming, but maybe, in its own way, it will also be beautiful.

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Social Spaces Disable Me

There is something I have noticed about myself, and it took me a long time to accept it. Before weddings, gatherings, or any social event where interaction is expected, my body reacts. I start coughing. I feel like I am getting sick. Sometimes I feel drained even before I leave the house, as if my body already knows that a socially demanding situation is coming.

What stands out to me is how quickly it ends. Once the event is over and I am back in my own space, I feel fine again. The coughing stops. The sickness fades. It is as if my body only needed to endure the social situation, and once it is done, it lets go.

At first, I thought it was coincidence. I told myself I was just tired or that my immune system was weak. But over time, I noticed the same thing happening in other moments that require social presence. It also happens before job interviews. Even when I feel prepared and calm, my body responds the same way. My throat tightens, the coughing starts, and I feel unwell. And once the interview ends, the symptoms disappear.

I do not have a professional explanation for this. I am not a psychologist. I only know what I experience. I know that I do not get close to my colleagues, that I keep my distance, and that I do not really have friends. For a long time, I wondered if this meant something was wrong with me socially, or if I was failing at something that seems natural to others.

Eventually, I reached a quieter conclusion. Social situations disable me. Not in an extreme way, and not in a way that needs diagnosis, but in a real, lived way. Long interactions, social expectations, and the need to perform in front of others take a physical toll on me. My body reacts by coughing, feeling sick, and shutting down. And when the situation ends, I recover.

This acceptance has not made my life smaller. I still attend social events when needed. I still go to interviews. I still work and function. But I no longer pretend that social spaces affect everyone the same way. Some environments enable people. Others disable them. For me, many social spaces are disabling.

Letting myself acknowledge this has changed how I treat myself. I no longer shame myself for needing distance. I no longer force closeness to prove that I can handle it. I listen to my body instead of arguing with it, and that feels more honest than pretending otherwise.

This is life beneath the mess after so many misses. And I am still living fully just in a way that allows me to stay well.- MESSY E.

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My Shopee Finds as a Purple Girlie

There is something quietly powerful about choosing softness after life has been loud. This blog is a reflection of how I live now, through small choices, intentional routines, and everyday essentials that support healing rather than rush it.

Pink is a common favorite color among girls. It is often the first color we are drawn to, associated with sweetness, softness, and familiarity. I loved pink too. For a long time, it felt like a safe place, especially during seasons when I needed comfort and something gentle to hold on to.

But when I got to know BTS, something slowly shifted in me. My love for pink did not disappear, but it deepened. Pink began to feel like a chapter I had outgrown, while purple felt like a color I was becoming. Purple carried more depth, more healing, and more quiet strength. It felt less like fitting in and more like finally understanding myself.

Among millions of ARMYs around the world, I am thankful to BTS for leading me to purple. In a world full of pink girlies, here I stand as a Purple Girlie. Over time, purple became more than a fandom color. It became part of my identity and one of the most interesting things about me. It represents how I choose softness without losing depth and how I continue growing without erasing who I used to be.

This blog is not just a list of Shopee finds. It is about how small, intentional purchases support a life lived beneath the mess after so many misses. These items are part of how I practice self-care, rest, and gentleness while learning how to live fully, even when life feels unfinished.

I will be sharing Shopee affiliate links here. If you choose to buy through them, thank you for supporting Miss and Mess. Affiliate Disclaimer>>

Purple is a lifestyle for me now. It is how I choose calm over chaos and intention over pressure. Purple allows me to slow down without guilt and to rest without explanation. It reminds me that healing does not have to be loud and that progress does not always need to be visible.

This purple girlie lifestyle shows up in the smallest details of my days. In the things I carry, the space I return to, and the routines that ground me when my thoughts feel heavy. These are not just aesthetic purchases. They are gentle supports for a life that is still becoming.

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A Mini Purple Handheld Fan for Everyday Care

Living in a warm and busy environment has taught me that self-care can be practical. This purple mini handheld fan is one of my most used Shopee finds. I reach for it on long days, crowded places, and moments when I feel overstimulated.

It is small, lightweight, and easy to carry, but it offers immediate relief when I need it. Holding it feels comforting in a quiet way. It reminds me that taking care of myself does not have to be complicated. Sometimes care is simply allowing myself to feel comfortable in the moment.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Clear Purple Phone Case That Carries Softness Everywhere

My phone is something I hold every single day, so it makes sense that it reflects the life I am trying to build. This clear purple phone case with bow details feels soft, feminine, and intentional without being overwhelming.

It protects my phone while gently expressing my Purple Girlie identity. It may seem like a small detail, but seeing something calming throughout the day reminds me that I am allowed to surround myself with softness wherever I go.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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Purple Heart Bedding That Makes Rest Feel Safe

Rest used to feel like something I had to earn. This purple heart bedding set changed how I relate to sleep. Coming home to soft lavender tones and heart details makes my bed feel like a safe place, not just somewhere to collapse from exhaustion.

This bedding turns rest into an act of care. It creates a space where my body can slow down and my thoughts can soften. Purple lives here in quiet nights, deep breaths, and moments where I allow myself to simply rest.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Purple Kitty Mouse That Softens Workdays

Work does not always have to feel heavy. This purple kitty wireless mouse adds softness to my workspace, especially on long days when focus feels difficult.

It is comfortable to use and visually comforting, which surprisingly changes how I approach tasks. It reminds me that productivity does not need to be harsh to be effective. Even workspaces deserve gentleness.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Violet 3-in-1 Makeup Pouch for Everyday Ease

This violet 3-in-1 makeup pouch supports my daily routine in a quiet but meaningful way. The biggest pouch is transparent, which allows me to see what I need at a glance without rummaging, saving time and mental energy. I use this larger pouch for my cable charger and cords when I bring my laptop to the office, which helps my workdays feel more organized and less overwhelming.

The smaller purple pouches keep everything else contained and calm. Together, they remind me that functionality and softness can exist side by side. I do not need to choose between being practical and being gentle with myself.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Purple Pillowcase That Makes Rest Feel Softer

This purple pillowcase became part of my weekly routine in a very practical way. I change my pillowcase every week to help avoid pimples, since I only change my full bedding set every three weeks. When my original pillowcase is in the wash, I use this one, then switch again once it is dry.

This simple rotation has turned into a small act of care. The calming purple color makes even these in-between nights feel intentional. It reminds me that rest is not laziness. It is care.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Plush Purple Makeup Bag as a Protective Phone Pouch

This plush purple makeup bag holds more than makeup. I bought it to protect my iPhone 17 Pro because its fluffy, padded texture makes it feel like a soft and protective pouch.

It may not be designed specifically for phones, but it serves its purpose beautifully for now. It keeps my phone cushioned inside my bag while still fitting into my purple aesthetic. Organization does not need to be perfect to be effective. Sometimes, it just has to feel right.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Small Purple Pouch for Quiet Preparedness

This small purple drawstring pouch holds essentials like my power bank and cables. More than that, it gives me a sense of calm. Having a dedicated place for things I rely on daily helps reduce mental clutter.

It supports my routine quietly, without demanding attention, which feels very aligned with the purple lifestyle I am choosing.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Mini Purple Umbrella for Gentle Preparedness

This mini purple capsule umbrella fits easily into my bag and represents preparedness without excess. Its soft purple shade feels calming even on rainy or overly bright days.

It reminds me that taking care of myself also means anticipating my needs kindly, not anxiously.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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A Purple Foldable Wallet for Everyday Simplicity

This purple foldable wallet is a quiet essential I use every day. Its compact design makes it easy to carry while still holding what I need. It feels practical, simple, and intentional.

It fits seamlessly into my purple girlie lifestyle without trying too hard. It reminds me that everyday choices can still feel aligned with who I am becoming. Sometimes, simplicity is the gentlest form of care.

👉 You can find it on Shopee here.

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These Shopee finds are not about collecting things for aesthetics alone. They are small, intentional choices that support a life rooted in softness, healing, and quiet strength. Each item helps make everyday moments feel more manageable and more human.

Purple is how I live now. In rest, in preparation, and in everyday care. I am still healing. Still choosing myself. Still living beneath the mess after so many misses.

Life is not perfect.

But I am still living. Fully. 

If you are looking for more purple finds beyond what I shared here, you can also visit my Shopee Storefront. I regularly curate items that fit the Purple Girlie lifestyle, from practical essentials to soft details that make everyday life feel calmer and more intentional. Not everything makes it into a blog post, but everything there reflects the same care, meaning, and quiet strength behind my choices. - MESSY E.

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How Did I Withdraw Fund from My Sun Life VUL Policy

I got my VUL policy from Sun Life in April 2018, four years after I graduated and started working. As a business course graduate, I already understood how important insurance is. Especially for someone like me who is the eldest and a breadwinner. There is a certain kind of pressure that comes with being the one expected to be financially steady. I knew early on that protection was not optional for me.

Still, I did not rush into getting insurance right after landing my first job. I prioritized building my emergency fund first. It took me four years of working before I felt secure enough to commit to a policy. I wanted to make sure that I had liquid savings before locking myself into a long term financial responsibility. Protection is important, but so is flexibility.

When I finally got my VUL, I made sure it was aligned with my income. Getting insurance did not mean I was earning a big paycheck. I was not. The key was having an honest conversation with a financial advisor and choosing a policy that I could sustain comfortably. I always tell people that insurance should fit your budget. It should not become another financial burden.

It is also important to clarify that a VUL is still primarily insurance. The investment component is only one part of it. When it comes to investments, higher risk can mean higher returns, but it also means greater exposure to market fluctuations. Since I chose a policy that fit my income at that time, the investment component was not big. The growth was modest. But at least I had started. At least I had both protection and an investment component working quietly in the background.

Five years later, I decided to partially withdraw from the investment portion of my policy. We were building our house, and I needed to augment our budget. The amount I withdrew was not huge, but it helped. Sometimes financial decisions are not about maximizing gains. Sometimes they are about supporting a life milestone that matters to you and your family.

The first time I withdrew, I had already lost contact with my financial advisor, so I reached out directly to Sun Life through email to ask about the process. They provided clear instructions on the forms and requirements. After completing the documents, I went to their branch in BGC to submit everything personally. It required time and effort, but it was straightforward. After approval, the funds were credited to my nominated bank account within five business days. Knowing that it would take around five business days helped me manage expectations since the funds were allocated for our house construction expenses.

This year, I decided to withdraw again. This time, it was to add funds toward buying my dream phone. It may not sound as serious as building a house, but it was something I had been planning and saving for. I assessed my policy first and made sure that I was only withdrawing a portion of the investment component without compromising my coverage. Being a breadwinner does not mean I am only allowed to spend on responsibilities. It also means learning how to reward myself responsibly.

What made this second withdrawal different was the convenience. Instead of visiting a branch, I used the My Sun Life PH app to request the withdrawal. I made the request on January 29, and the funds were credited to my nominated bank account on February 3, just five business days later. The process was straightforward, and here is how it works based on the current app layout:

1. Open the My Sun Life PH app and log in to your account.

2. Select your VUL policy from your dashboard.

3. Tap on Withdraw Fund under the policy options. You may also see Switch Fund or Allocate Fund, but Withdraw Fund is the one to use for partial withdrawals.

4. After tapping Withdraw Fund, you will first see a page explaining what the feature is and the things to remember. It includes possible requirements such as signed consent and valid ID of irrevocable beneficiaries, or an apostilled form if the request is made outside the Philippines. It also mentions that withdrawal fees may apply, and that the final payout will depend on the current fund value. Processing usually takes around five business days once everything is complete.

As for me, I did not need to submit those requirements. I only needed to confirm my banking details, since my policy did not require additional documents. This may vary depending on your policy setup, so it is still important to review what applies to you.

5. Tap Agree and proceed.

6. You will then be asked if you are currently in the Philippines while making the withdrawal. Select your answer and tap Proceed.

7. Enter the amount you want to withdraw. Make sure it does not go below your policy’s minimum maintaining balance.

8. Confirm your bank account details for the transfer.

9. Review the details and submit your request.

10. Wait for approval and verification, which usually takes 5 business days. You will receive a notification once the funds are credited.

After submitting through the app, the convenience of not having to go to a branch made a big difference, and the five-business-day timeline gave me confidence to plan my purchase.

Withdrawing from a VUL means taking money from the investment component, and that can affect how long the policy can sustain insurance charges. That is something every policyholder should understand before making a decision. A VUL is not a replacement for an emergency fund. It is still insurance first, with investment as a component. Returns are not guaranteed, and fund values move depending on market performance.

I do not regret either withdrawal. One supported our home. The other allowed me to enjoy something I had worked hard for. I still have my policy, and I still value the protection it provides. Starting early, even with a modest amount, gave me options later on.

Life after the misses and the messes, I am still learning to navigate each season with care and intention. - MESSYE.

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What Love Looked Like for Me This Valentine’s

Valentine’s Day has never been a day of longing for me. I do not measure it by romantic gestures or expect it to mark a certain kind of love in my life. Instead, it has quietly become a reminder of the many ways I am loved and the many ways I choose to love, even in the ordinary and unseen parts of my days. I celebrate it not because I am in a relationship, but because love exists in far more forms than hearts and flowers.

I celebrate the love I give myself. The mornings I take slowly, the decisions I make for my own well-being, the patience I extend to my own mistakes. These are acts of love that are often quiet but necessary. They are the foundation of everything else. I have learned that tending to myself is not selfish. It is what allows me to remain present and steady in the rest of my life.

I celebrate the love of family. It is not always perfect, and it is not always expressed in the ways I wish it were. But it is there in the messages checking in, in the small gestures of care, in the presence that endures even when it is unspoken. Family love has shaped me, held me, and reminded me that I am never entirely alone.

I celebrate the love of friends. Some have been with me for years, some only for moments, but each one has left a mark. It is in laughter that arrives without prompting, in support offered when I do not ask, and in the quiet understanding that someone sees me for who I am. That love has a steadiness that I cherish, even in its imperfections.

I celebrate the love of the communities I belong to, the shared excitement of fandoms, and the inspiration I take from people whose work and presence touch me deeply. There is joy in being part of something larger, in feeling connected to people who spark passion and admiration in ways that are entirely my own. That kind of love reminds me that the world is full of shared hearts, even from a distance.

Valentine’s Day, for me, is a quiet acknowledgment of all these forms of love. It does not ache because I am missing a partner. It is a gentle celebration of the relationships, connections, and commitments I already hold. It is a reminder that love does not have a single shape or a single source. It lives in the life I lead, in the care I give and receive, and in the moments I notice, even if they are small.

Love has never been only about romance. It is in the kindness I extend, the bonds I nurture, and the attention I give to what matters. It is the patience I have with myself, the gratitude I feel for those who are present in my life, and the joy I find in what sparks my soul.

This Valentine’s Day, I celebrated the love that has been with me all along. I celebrated the quiet ways I care for myself, the presence of family and friends, and the little joys that remind me life is not empty. What love did you celebrate on Valentine’s Day? - MESSY E.

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The Day I Stopped Looking at Other People’s Phones

I finally did it after years of hovering on the edge and watching from the sidelines, and even now it feels strange to say it out loud that I am finally an Apple user and that I bought an iPhone 17 Pro.

For a long time, this was only a quiet dream that lived in the background of my working life. When I first started working, it felt like almost everyone around me already had expensive cellphones, and they carried them with an ease that made it seem completely normal. My colleagues would place their phones on the table during breaks or meetings, and I could not help but see them as upgraded professionals, as people who had reached a level I had not yet touched.

That was when the thought of owning an iPhone first settled in me, not loudly or urgently, but in a way that lingered and stayed. It became one of those unspoken wants you carry quietly, the kind you hesitate to name because you are not sure if wanting it is reasonable or shallow or even allowed.

Over time, the habit followed me outside of work. Whenever I was out, I noticed what phones people were holding, whether in cafés, on public transport, or while waiting in lines, and without meaning to I started making small calculations in my head. I wondered what kind of job they had, how long they had been working, and how they could afford what they were carrying, and it was not admiration exactly and not envy either, but something in between that I never fully learned how to name.

Back then, I often told myself that I did not need an iPhone, and that was true for who I was at the time. I was surviving, focusing on responsibilities, choosing what was practical and necessary over what felt indulgent, and slowly building stability in the only way I knew how.

Still, there were moments of self-pity that arrived quietly and without explanation. There were days when I wondered why I always seemed to be choosing later, upgrading later, and arriving later than everyone else, and I never really talked about it because I could not even explain to myself why it mattered as much as it did.

Now, I finally have my own.

What surprised me was how quietly everything shifted after that. I stopped scanning rooms to see what people were holding in their hands, and I stopped doing mental math about other people’s lives and incomes. The comparison faded without effort, and the self-pity loosened its grip, not because my life suddenly transformed, but because I no longer felt like I was standing outside something I wanted.

Buying this phone is not about status and it is not about keeping up, but about recognizing that I am no longer in the same place I was when the dream first started. I am no longer just surviving, and I am allowed to choose ease where I can without feeling the need to justify it.

Unboxing it surprised me in a way I did not expect, and I felt genuinely giddy and excited, like I was holding something I had imagined for so long and could finally touch. I caught myself smiling at the smallest details, taking my time with it, and savoring the moment instead of rushing through it, and for once I let myself enjoy the excitement without downplaying it or telling myself it was silly.

This is what Miss and Mess has always been about for me, not perfection and not perfect timing, but the life that continues beneath the mess after so many misses.

Buying an iPhone 17 Pro did not erase my past or suddenly make me more successful or more healed, but it marked a moment of arrival, not to a destination, but to myself.

Now, I no longer have to look at other people’s phones and wonder where I stand. - MESSY E.

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Plates and Pages: Nineteen Degrees

Finding quiet moments amid the noise and the mess

The mall was busy as usual, people moving past us in every direction, music and chatter filling the space. Nineteen Degrees, tucked in a small corner of SM Mall of Asia, was crowded like always. Every table was taken, and it looked like we might not find a seat. Somehow, luck landed us an empty table for two.

Sitting there, I felt a small relief. Among the occupied tables, the voices and movement, my sister and I created our own little world. It didn’t erase the chaos around us, but it gave us space to breathe and just be.

She is deep into job hunting these days, sending resumes, going to interviews, carrying uncertainty. I wanted this moment to be a gentle pause for her. I quietly wished for her that doors open smoothly, that the waiting doesn’t feel too heavy, and that she finds the right path without too many bumps along the way.

We ordered small comforts. I had the F5 Strawberry Love Fruit Tea and P1 Handmade Scallion and Egg. She chose the K4 Pork Floss and Egg and B4 Iced Dirty Choco. Each bite and sip grounded us in the moment, little anchors amid the mall’s noise.

For a while, it felt like we existed only in this corner. The world carried on around us, but inside that crowded space, we shared quiet laughter, hopes for what comes next, and the gentle awareness that even amid noise and mess, moments of calm and connection can be found. - MESSY E.

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What My Missing Period Tried to Tell Me

I did not think much of it at first, the skipped days, the empty space on the calendar where my period should have been. My last cycle was around October 22,2025, and when November came without anything, I brushed it off. When December passed too, I told myself it was fine. But the body has a way of going quiet when it is tired, and mine had been whispering long before I paid attention.

Life had blurred into overtime and exhaustion. My sleep came in fragile pieces, sometimes three hours, sometimes four, often split into uneven stretches that never felt like real rest. My days stopped feeling like days. They became long, stretched-out hours I had to survive. The routine that once grounded me slowly dissolved under the weight of fatigue and pressure. Through all of it, I kept insisting that I was okay.

Part of that exhaustion was my own doing. Because I worked the night shift, I often stretched my nights longer than I should have, choosing to stay out or stay distracted even when my body was clearly asking for rest. I learned to function on less sleep, convincing myself I could push through. During work nights, I leaned heavily on sugar just to get through the hours, treating sweets like fuel instead of comfort. It felt manageable then. I did not realize how much it was costing me.

The body never lies. It does not pretend or push just because we do. When it reaches its limit, it protects us by pausing what is not essential. For me, that meant my period quietly stepping aside. It felt like my body was saying it could not keep up with the way I was forcing myself to live.

When the worry finally surfaced, I tried to fix myself quickly. I ate better. I reduced sugar. I took vitamins. One night, after eating tilapia, rice, and two small Toblerone triangles, I took Conzace barely fifteen minutes after the meal. My body reacted immediately, with burping, a tight sensation in my chest, and a brief wave of dizziness. I lay down even though I knew I should not. The discomfort faded, and I laughed it off. But deep inside, I knew it was not really about the vitamin. I was trying to apply a quick solution to months of exhaustion I had refused to confront.

Eventually, I switched to Stresstabs. Something about it felt gentler, more aligned with what my body actually needed. I took it quietly for a few days, without expectation, while also trying to fix my sleep, even imperfectly. One morning, I slept from six until two. Eight full hours. Not the ideal schedule, but real rest, the kind my body had been starved of.

A few days later, on January 14,2026 my period came back.

It arrived without warning, not quietly, but with tender breasts and the familiar ache in my lower abdomen, signaling its return and bringing overwhelming relief. I laughed and cried at the same time, surprised by how much fear I had been carrying until it finally loosened its grip. After two months of silence, my body had found its way back to me.

Looking at it now, with some distance, everything feels clearer. My body was not malfunctioning. It was exhausted. My period did not disappear because something was wrong with me. It disappeared because something was wrong with the way I had been living. The stress, the lack of sleep, the constant nights out, the sugar-heavy coping, the emotional weight, and the pressure to keep going all stacked up until my hormones paused. Not to punish me, but to protect me.

Missing two cycles sounded frightening when I said it out loud, but when I placed it beside months of sleep deprivation and overwork, it made sense. My body had been asking for help long before I listened.

Now, weeks later, I am choosing to return to myself more intentionally. I am still learning to sleep better. I am drinking more water, eating proper meals, lowering sugar, and moving gently instead of rushing. I am no longer demanding immediate fixes from my body. I am learning to meet it where it is, tired but resilient, worn but still trying.

January 14 reminded me of something I do not want to forget. The body responds when we begin to care again. Healing does not always announce itself loudly. Sometimes it shows up quietly, in the form of a long-missed period arriving on an ordinary day, reminding you that you are still here, still functioning, still capable of finding your rhythm again.

As I post this on February 1, I am holding on to a truth I ignored for too long. The body does not ask for perfection. It asks for partnership. It asks for rest. It asks to be listened to.

And now that I am listening, I feel myself slowly finding my way back. - MESSY E.

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