Reentry

October 15, 2025

There’s a moment when you know you’ve turned the corner—

when the ache that once held you prisoner

fades into the background music

of a hollow party long since over.

I can still hear it sometimes,

the faint call of the past,

the hum of chaos and addiction,

inviting me to come back and dance.

But I’ve stepped into different air.

The smoke from that fire trails off behind me,

a reminder of what once burned,

not an invitation to return.

The sky looks clearer.

The smallest things—steam from my morning coffee,

light on the water, inner peace in my heart—

feel like miracles again.

I’m not digging like an archaeologist to understand it anymore.

I’ve lived it, learned from it,

integrated the dark,

and tended my own shadows

so they don't dim another’s light.

Now, I dance in my kitchen,

find peace in my solitude,

joy in connection,

and the return of youthful energy once suppressed.

The world feels wider—

like it’s been waiting

for me to be ready.

This is reentry—

into my life.

And I love it.