The Distance Between Love and Obligation
Some choices feel clear until we imagine having to explain them. Somewhere between love, gratitude, obligation, and the fear of disappointing people we care about, a simple decision can begin to feel like something requiring a defense.
The Person and the Permission
Sometimes we give people authorship over chapters they merely happened to witness. Maybe they did not open us. Maybe they arrived at the exact moment we finally stopped looking away.
The Space Between Available and True
For years, I learned how to build a life from what was available, what worked, what could be made enough. Now I’m creating space for a different question: not simply what can I make work, but what actually belongs in the life I’m trying to create?
The Hands Holding It Have Changed
There is something strange about editing words written by an earlier version of yourself. The pages are the same, but the hands holding them have changed. As I reopen Twice Opened, I’m learning that not every old sentence needs to be rewritten. Some are simply waiting to be heard again.
Creating Through the Static
When so much of life feels temporary, I keep returning to the one thing that doesn’t require certainty: creating. Somewhere between the empty spaces, changing plans, and all the waiting, making and sharing art has become its own quiet kind of normal.
Turn Intention Into Action
Somewhere between packing my life into suitcases and preparing to cross an ocean, Australia started giving me words for things I had been trying to understand for years.
The Distance No Ferry Could Measure
Sometimes the body arrives somewhere beautiful before the rest of us does. Looking back at a day I had wanted for so long, I found gratitude, regret, and the strange distance between being somewhere and truly being there.
The Small Changes That Gave Me Back to Myself
I thought I was removing things from my life. I didn’t realize I was removing the static. Somewhere between letting go of the things I used to escape and learning to sit fully inside my own life, I began to hear myself again. And with that clarity came an unexpected question: how much of the person I had been was actually me, and how much had been borrowed from the rooms I was trying to belong in?
Was I Finally Seen, or Did I Finally See Myself?
There is a particular kind of intimacy that feels like recognition. But sometimes the person we believe finally saw us arrives at the exact moment we are learning to see ourselves.
I Don’t Have the Answers
As kids, we’re endlessly curious. Somewhere along the way, many of us learn to hide what we don’t know. I’m learning to return to that curiosity, ask the questions, listen to different perspectives, and find freedom in simply saying, “I don’t know.”
Even the Pause Was Taking Me Somewhere
Even the Pause Was Taking Me Somewhere | Embracing Life Transitions
I used to think I had to keep moving to be making progress. These last few months taught me something different: sometimes the quiet, unsettled spaces are doing more than we realize.
The Things We Learn Too Young
What childhood rules are you still carrying? Skye Mari reflects on the quiet lessons we learn too young, from staying silent and reading the room to being strong for everyone else. A hopeful look at healing, unlearning old survival patterns, and choosing new beliefs with compassion, curiosity, and a little more light.
Why I Started Writing
There wasn’t one moment that made me a writer.
It was thousands of ordinary moments quietly collecting in the corners of my life.