Finding peace in the place I was once ashamed to stand.

I’ve spent most of my life on the outside.

Not by choice—but by nature, by design.

It started early. In kindergarten, while the other girls laughed and danced in circles, I was peeling glue off my fingers, sitting with the girl in the wheelchair who couldn’t see or hear, learning sign language so she wouldn’t be alone. Even then, I wasn’t in. I was other.

Not cool. Not popular. Not pretty. Just… me.

A little odd. A little too much. A little too tender in a world that rewards sparkle and sameness.

I had a childhood best friend who wasn’t really a best friend.

She hung out at my house because my parents were cool.

At school, she laughed behind my back. This continued long past childhood—until I was 37, when I finally had the courage to say enough.

But the truth is, that pattern ran deep. I’ve often been the one people come to—for advice, comfort, emotional support.

But when my own life fell apart?

No one to call.

No hand to hold.

No arms to rest in.

I used to wonder what was wrong with me.

Why wasn’t I enough?

Why was I so hard to love?

And if I’m being honest, some days I still wonder.

Some days, the ache returns.

The loneliness whispers.

But now, I know something deeper:

I am enough for Him.

I was never unseen. Never forgotten. Never truly alone.

As I begin to unravel my story—thread by thread—I can see that He’s been weaving a tapestry all along.

A beautiful one.

A holy one.

There is peace now.

Not perfection. Not constant joy. But peace.

Yes, the darkness still tries to pull me back under.

Yes, I still cry. I still grieve. I still long.

But there’s a hand holding me now.

A stillness I can rest in.

A grace I didn’t earn but was given.

A purpose I’m beginning to believe in.

And here’s the part I need to say clearly—

I know not everyone is comfortable with the “God” part of my story.

And that’s okay.

I’m not here to preach. I’m not here to push anything on anyone.

But I am here to tell the truth.

To share my life. My story. Me.

And this—my faith, my relationship with God—it’s not a side note. It’s the center.

You don’t have to believe what I believe. You’re welcome here either way.

But I won’t keep tiptoeing around this part of my healing just to avoid offending someone.

Because when I do that, I’m holding myself back.

I’m editing out the part of me that kept me alive.

And that’s not fair—to you, or to me.

Not every post will be all about God. Some will be about nature, the universe, and the quiet wisdom I find in everyday life.

Yes, God is at the center of all of it for me. But that doesn’t mean it’s the only thing.

Just know: I see you.

I welcome you—wherever you are on your journey.

Whatever your beliefs.

Whatever your doubts.

There are no judgments here.

You are loved and cherished in this space, exactly as you are.

This space is a safe space.

A soft place to land.

A table with friends.

A cup of tea.

And of course—bagels and snacks.

All my love,

–J.

“You are not a problem to be solved. You are a soul to be seen.”

-Morgan Harpe