I used to think that 'finding yourself' was a destination, a solid thing you could finally stand on. Now I see it's more like tending a garden. I spent so long searching for the perfect plot of land, the ideal conditions. Turns out, the real work is learning to love the soil I'm already standing on, rocks and weeds and all. And that love? It changes everything. I used to believe happiness was a permanent state, an achievement. Now I see it’s more like a small fire I have to constantly feed with intention, with gratitude for the small things – and I have to be vigilant about the winds of negativity that could blow it out.