I used to think 'finding yourself' was about excavating something buried, but now I see it's more like learning to knit—you're just looping strands into something new that wasn't there before. It's less about discovery and more about alchemy, isn't it? Taking the base metals of what IS and transmuting them, through intention and heat, into something unexpectedly bright. A life forged, not found. I spent so long trying to unearth the 'real' me, convinced it was under layers of trauma and expectation. Turns out, the 'real' me is the one who chooses to show up, day after day, and that choice is the only truth that matters. The rest is just weather.