24/04/2026
To stay tender where the edges are sharp,
to keep your heart open in places that have forgotten how,
to be relational in a world that prizes the self,
to risk the ache of not being received,
and still remain,
soft, listening, here,
can feel like standing alone in the cold.
But do you know what is lonelier than that?
To close.
To dim the senses.
To drift untouched through your own life,
untethered from the pulse of anything real.
What a gift it is
to be moved by another,
to feel the tremor of connection,
to turn toward instead of away,
to let something reach you
and leave its mark.
How do you stay open
in a place that armours itself?
How do you slow down
when everything rushes past?
Maybe you don’t harden to survive,
maybe you become more precise
in where you place your openness.
Find the ones who love as you do.
Who meet your gaze without flinching.
Who celebrate the quiet and the wild in you.
Who welcome your fear without trying to quiet it
and honour your courage without needing it to be constant.
Who don’t just celebrate your light, but recognise the whole of you.
Please, do not close.
Not everything is meant to hold you,
but something will.
And when it does,
you’ll want your heart
still capable of being found.
With love,
Bronte
** words from a challenging luteal phase, a moment when I felt too tender for this world. And a reminder of why we do this human thing that we do.🦋
