falling in love with change

hi lovlies!

i haven’t written here in some time but i’ve been feeling inspired and truly wanted to get back to doing what i love most—writing. not for a grade or deadline or anything, but rather to just sit in the space where my words become comfort; for me and whoever else feels seen.

i’ve been thinking a lot (as i do) about change. what a scary word that is. i don’t know about anyone else, but change as never been my strong suit. i’ve always been the girl who had such hard time letting go, whether it be moving houses or schools, losing a loved one (stuffed animal or human), rearranging my room. it all feels like small little heartbreaks. and now here i am, sitting at the same cafe where i write every blog post, but this time i know i will only be here a few more times till i’m in a whole new city and searching for a new spot to write as i venture to the unfamiliar world of college. it’s truly terrifying and it’s happening whether i’m ready or not.

if i’m being honest, i have been clinging to the version of myself that knows the way home with her eyes closed. the girl who’s used to the shopping center in the neighborhood, the comfort of her mom’s laugh when she’s gossiping, the friends who just get it without needing an explanation. i do believe there is something so sacred about a routine, about the known, about the softness of the life i’ve built so far that i love so deeply.

what i need to understand though is that there is also something equally sacred about this unknown of change.

change, i’m learning, doesn’t have to be the villian of life. rather, it’s the hand that nudges you forward when your feet are stuck or the breath of air when the room has been stuffy for too long. i’m trying to believe that it’s the universe telling me, “you’re not done growing yet, there is so much more to life to see.” and maybe that’s the most beautiful part.

i don’t want to stay the same. i still carry the tree-hugging three-year-old, the rule-following middle schooler, and the bright-eyed high schooler in pieces of my everyday—but there are still more versions of me waiting to be discovered, more selves to gather along the way. don’t get me wrong, comfort is cozy and i am truly looking forward to the day where i get to settle down, i want to become the version of myself who’s brave enough to start over. who walks into new rooms with probably (definitely) shaky hands but an open heart. who will say yes to the possibility even if she misses what came before.

as i pack my things—little pieces of home, my favorite books, my stuffed animals, old birthday cards, the necklaces my grandmother gave me—i feel this bittersweetness i can’t quite put into words. it’s like grief and hope dancing together. like the ache of goodbye softened by the thrill of what’s ahead.

so this post is my love letter to change. to new beginnings. to the messy, in-between moments. to letting go, even when it hurts. to becoming someone i haven’t met yet.

and to you, if you’re going through change too—whether it’s a new city, a new chapter, a new version of yourself—i hope you know you’re not alone. i hope you give yourself grace. i hope you find little sparks of joy in the unfamiliar. and i hope you trust that the best parts of you aren’t going anywhere—they’re just evolving.

because i’ll still be me. and there will still be people waiting for me and cheering me on. and maybe that’s the gift of change after all.

sending you love wherever you are.

forever always,
wesley anne 💌