Another Year Goes By

As I age, I learn more about myself. Whether I like what I learn or not is not the issue. It is facing what everyone must or should face. Some are unable to deal with their shortcomings where I refuse to sweep mine under the rug. Also, learning is a good thing. I am ruled by the moon. I find myself, every evening, looking up at the moon, wondering who else may also be. For some reason the energy I feel around me, from it, shifts me in ways I cannot explain.

I usually keep my emotions tucked away or focus mostly on what needs to get done, but this time it is bringing a softer pull inwards. I begin to feel more emotionally open, more sensitive to tone, and more aware of who feels safe to be around and who leaves me feeling drained, even if nothing obvious has happened.

I have always had the kind of energy that heightens my emotional instincts and my ability to sense what is unspoken. I notice how I can walk into a room and feel tension before anyone says a word, or sit next to someone and pick up on their sadness, even if they are smiling.

It is a blessing and a curse to feel what is happening beneath the surface, and the more I trust those instincts, the clearer everything begins to feel. I notice what my body has been trying to tell me all along. When my stomach tightens during a conversation or my energy fades after spending time with someone who always talks over me.

I can feel my emotions rising to the surface during this time and feel changeable, unpredictable, or stronger than usual and on a short notice. I find I tear up during a commercial, feel tenderness while folding laundry, or suddenly remember someone who made me feel loved in a simple, unforgettable way. These waves of feelings are all part of me, my birth and I invite myself to let my emotional truths move freely without judging myself for it. I shall feel what I feel while keeping everything to myself as I normally do where I have never had anyone who was remotely interested.

I am prioritizing comfort, care, and the safety that comes from emotional closeness. I find myself longing for home in a way that surprises me. I tell myself, instead of just craving a physical space, I realize I am searching for a feeling. Something that allows me to fully exhale, to be understood without needing to explain every part of myself, and to be held by someone or something that does not ask me to pretend.

The home that I wish for could come from a certain person who always remembers how I like my tea, a favorite meal that brings back warm memories, or a space I have made my own by surrounding it with things that feel soft and grounding. Or it could be a short note from someone who might care.

I wish for the people and places that offer emotional warmth to become more important. I feel a stronger pull to be around those who feel genuine, who check in without being prompted, and who care in the small, consistent ways that create trust over time.

And with not finding that home, I feel more protective of my emotions and energy, stepping away from anything that feels emotionally loud, unreliable, or shallow. There is less tolerance for connections that ask me to shrink, stay quiet, or carry the emotional weight on my own. Even if I do not say it out loud, I feel the difference between someone who is truly present and someone who is just going through the motions.

I always enter into reflection, as certain songs, smells, or places bring back vivid memories. I find I replay conversations in my mind or think about the version of myself that existed before certain events changed me. The pull toward the past offers me a chance to gather insight, to see how far I have come, and to notice which experiences helped shape my emotional landscape. My memory becomes a mirror, showing me what still matters and what I am ready to leave behind.

I think of my relationships, especially when I have been overextending myself or ignoring my own needs to keep the peace. I find I am more cautious to not speak words that upset others. I begin to recognize how much effort I have been putting into holding something together, or realizing that certain connections feel more like work than comfort and that I have been waiting for someone to show up for me in a way that never fully arrives. These truths can be difficult to accept, especially if I have invested time, energy, and love into trying to make things feel secure. Yet I feel that kind of emotional honesty that helps me face what is real without turning away from it.

I have found I start to feel more drawn to my inner world and less interested in explaining everything to others. I have such a desire for closeness, but only the kind that allows me to be fully seen. Shallow interactions feel tiring, and instead, I want a connection that feels reciprocal, where my emotions are held gently and my needs are met without having to over-explain or justify.

One of my subtle truths is how much strength exists in softness. There is a kind of courage required to let myself be affected, to admit when something hurts, and to say what I need without wrapping it in layers of politeness or apology. I never ask for but find I have a need to ask for help by being honest about what feels too heavy, whether physically or emotionally or admitting to myself that I miss someone. These moments might seem small from the outside, but they are big acts of growth, self-trust, and emotional maturity. Yet I hide what I dare not say.

So this is a time to care for myself in a physical way that supports my emotional well-being. I have started having slower mornings, cooking meals that fill my soul, wrapping myself in something soft, or spending time in places that makes my mind and soul relax. I need to rebuild my sense of safety, and tell my body that it is okay to rest, to feel, and to accept what may never be.

I want to find that my decisions become guided less by pressure and more by emotional truth, and I want to choose ones who make me feel safe rather than ones who only want what I will not give. I want to create more room for what makes me feel calm, cared for and whole.