I know I need to go and put myself in places where my needs might be met. That’s part of the work. But lately I’ve been sitting with something a little heavier: when I go to certain places—especially the ones tied to my son, like football training or kids’ parties—my needs don’t get met. If anything, I end up feeling more alone.

And that’s the disappointing thing.

It’s not that I’m afraid. I’ve put effort in. I’ve smiled, I’ve made conversation, I’ve stayed open. But still, nothing meaningful lands. It’s demoralizing—not because I expect instant intimacy, but because I’ve tried. I’ve really tried. And it hasn’t led to that secure kind of connection I long for. At times, it feels like most people can’t meet me in the way I need. Not in the places I’ve been placing myself in, anyway.

But today felt different.

I was at the gym, and I noticed something shift. I didn’t feel intimidated. I felt calm. Collected. Open to connection—not desperately, but peacefully. There was a sense of potential. And although I didn’t have a deep conversation with anyone, I felt like… maybe I could.

The gym hasn’t changed much. But I have.

And that’s something worth pausing for.

Sometimes it’s not about finding new places—it’s about noticing who we are when we enter them. And today, I noticed a little more self-trust. A little more presence. A little more me.