11.5.25
Lately, writing has felt heavier than usual. My thoughts keep looping, and I can’t tell if it’s the time change, the gray weather, or just emotional exhaustion catching up to me.
Last night, my dreams were wild. In one, I was making a small sacrifice at work. Something I thought I had to do to help my daughter, but it left me uneasy. In the dream, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was losing myself a little in the process.
The second dream hit harder. My best friend was doing things that felt were too much, giving too much of herself in ways I didn’t think she should. I was angry. Not at her, at the fear underneath it. In the dream, I was yelling, breaking things, ready to burn the fucking world down, desperate to stop her before she got hurt. I woke up feeling that same mix of anger, worry, and love all tangled together.
Thinking about them now, I think both dreams were about control. The kind that comes from love and fear at the same time. I want to protect the people I care about. I want to make sure they’re okay, even when I know it’s not my job to direct their story. It’s hard for me to watch people I love struggle or take risks, even when those moments might be what they need most.
But I’m learning that love doesn’t mean managing outcomes. Sometimes it means standing back and trusting the process, trusting the other person, trusting that I don’t have to be the fixer.
Maybe this is my reminder to pray for peace and guidance instead of trying to force things to go my way. To focus on being present, supportive, and kind. To let life unfold for the people I love the way it’s meant to. I don’t ever want my love to feel like control. I want it to feel like safety, like calm, and like faith.
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