There’s a quiet shift happening in me.

I noticed it recently when I felt emotionally safe around someone for the first time in a long while. It didn’t go anywhere — no deep friendship, no romance — but it didn’t have to. The point was that something softened in me. Something that had been on guard for years began to trust again, just a little.

That kind of safety felt new. Or maybe more accurately, it felt remembered. Like a version of me from long ago had finally come up for air.

Lately, I’ve also been thinking a lot about my body — not in the way I used to, with self-criticism or shame, but with more curiosity. I used to think I was too big. That I’d be more lovable if I looked different. But now I’m beginning to see things differently. My body is strong. It holds power. Some people are drawn to that.

I still want to lose a little more weight — maybe ten kilograms or so — but not out of self-rejection. I’m aiming for comfort, for health, for ease. I’m not chasing some ideal. I just want to feel good in my skin.

And I do, more often now. That in itself feels like a kind of homecoming.

But here’s the part I keep coming back to:

I think I’m ready for connection… consciously.
Unconsciously, it might be harder than I expect.

That line hits me hard. Because it’s the truth.

The truth is, I want to love and be loved. I want to build something real with someone. But I also know what it’s like to get hurt. To be let down. To twist myself into someone more likable, more palatable — and end up feeling more alone than ever.

I’m not doing that anymore.

This time, I want to stay grounded in myself, even as I open the door to someone else. I don’t want to chase. I want to receive. I want connection that comes from being seen, not from performing.

That’s the climb, isn’t it?

Letting someone in without losing yourself.
Believing you’re worthy even when no one is affirming it back.
Trusting that your strength doesn’t make you too much — it makes you ready.

I’m not fully there yet, but I’m moving.

And for the first time in a long while, it doesn’t feel like I’m climbing alone.