A Slow Return

I’ve written and re-written this (re)introduction more than a dozen times, trying to succinctly explain why I disappeared seven months ago. Trying to do so without going into detail. Without trampling my boundaries. Without tearing open newly stitched wounds.

Turns out my writing tools are a little rusty.

So let me start by simply saying thank you.

Thank you for allowing me to step back. Thank you for your concern. Your kindness. Your emails and Instagram messages and letters. I have read them all, taken heart in them all, and responded to precisely none of them.

My reasons for stepping back have been health-related and all-consuming and for months I literally could not write. I couldn’t compose a text, couldn’t reply to an IG message, couldn’t journal or brain dump or scribble on a Post-It. There were months I thought I would never write another word.

But then, slowly, as always, I found my way back to a blank page. Because of course I did. It’s where I process. Where my thoughts take shape, where I unravel the knots, where I recognise patterns and voices and shiny little gems of truth that have been hiding in plain sight for years, coated in a thick layer of dust.

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