Hey friends,
It’s been a while—longer than I intended. I’ve been meaning to sit down and write, but life has a way of swallowing time whole when you’re caught in its current. So here I am, finally taking a breath, and putting some thoughts into words.
To put it simply, I’ve been working a lot. Like, 7 days a week, non-stop, barely-making-time-to-sleep kind of work. It started with good intentions—I thought staying busy would help me stay focused, keep me productive, and maybe even keep certain thoughts at bay. But somewhere in that busyness, I stopped going out, stopped reaching out, and started drifting into isolation.
Church and work became my entire world. And while those are two solid pillars, even strong foundations can’t hold you up if you don’t let people in. I’ve been sitting in my own thoughts way too much, spiraling a bit in silence. I kept telling myself I was just “tired,” but honestly, I’ve been walking through a fog of depression that I didn’t want to acknowledge, let alone talk about. I stopped showing up for people—and if you’re reading this and you’ve felt that distance, I’m sorry. It wasn’t personal. I just couldn’t find the words.
Part of the reason I didn’t say anything was fear—fear of being misunderstood, of being seen as too much or not enough. I’ve always been an all-or-nothing kind of person. If I can’t show up fully, I tend to retreat entirely. And that’s not healthy, but it’s honest.
But something shifted about a month ago.
I stumbled into a group of people—new faces, new energy, and no expectations. They didn’t know anything about me. They didn’t need anything from me. They just let me be. And that was exactly what I didn’t know I needed. I could sit there and just exist without feeling like I had to perform or explain myself. Slowly, I started to open up to a few of them. Not fully, not deeply, but enough. And for someone like me who guards their heart so tightly, that’s a big step.
These people feel different. Safe. And while I haven’t shared everything with them (honestly, no one knows everything about me), they’ve helped remind me that it’s okay to be seen. Even the messy parts. Maybe especially the messy parts.
I’ve also started baking again—something I’ve always loved but had lost the energy for. It’s funny how something as simple as creaming butter and sugar can help you slow down and breathe. Today, I made a caramel pound cake for the first time. I haven’t tasted it yet—waiting until I get home from a meeting I’ve been avoiding. A friend (who I’ve also been avoiding, if we’re being real) is speaking tonight, and I told them I’d show up. I’m here…even though everything in me wants to run out the door and disappear. But I’m staying. I’m learning that sometimes showing up, even when it’s hard, is the first step to healing.
So yeah…that’s where I’m at. Not fully okay, but not where I was either. Somewhere in between. And maybe that’s enough for now.
Thanks for sticking around, for reading, for being part of the journey—however messy or quiet it gets. Hopefully, I’ll find my rhythm again and get back to writing more regularly. Until then, be kind to yourself. We’re all carrying things we don’t talk about.
With love,
—Marty
Martytalks Daliy 