I'm not sure if storytelling is a typical trait of the average introvert, but then again, I'm not average in most of my thought processes or in how I operate in this complex world. There's just something about telling a story, painting the picture, setting the perfect backdrop to a world of words that opens, expands, and deeply penetrates the mind. If you've been with me over the past weeks, months, even years, you know I don't just love to write; it's what keeps me sane, grounded and...

Words don't just land; they settle. They find the quiet corners of who we are and make themselves at home long before we're old enough to ask them to leave. We grow up, move cities, change our names sometimes, reinvent ourselves entirely, and still, there they are. The offhand comment at the dinner table. The comparison that was never in our favour. The silence that somehow said more than any sentence could. What was spoken over us as children did not stay in our childhood. It travelled with...

Do the people you hold near and dear have the capacity to hold your heart without wounding it, squeezing it, dropping it, handing it back slightly misshapen? Can they sit with you without trying to control the narrative? Sit with those questions for a moment before you continue reading. Really sit with them. Someone recently told me about a conversation that left them hollow. Not because the person they'd confided in was cruel, or dismissive, or even particularly distracted. They were...