Today my heart feels like it’s moving at its own pace, and I’m not fighting it. I woke up slow, body heavy in that way that’s not quite tired, just… soft. I scrolled and scrolled, let the world’s noise buzz past me, and noticed how my chest felt a little open, a little uncertain. Sometimes I think queerness is just this: learning how to let yourself move gentle, not always pushing for answers or speed.
It’s funny, how I can feel so much tenderness for myself on a day when nothing big is happening. I caught myself in the bathroom mirror, hoodie on, curls a little wild, and it felt like a small hello. I didn’t try to fix anything. I just looked, let my face be what it is, Black and queer and quiet, and was okay with it. There’s a softness in that, like letting myself be a little unmade and not minding.
I keep thinking about how I used to rush my feelings, like I was supposed to be somewhere else emotionally, always ahead of wherever I was. But today, I let the slow feeling stay. I listened to a song that always makes me feel tender, and didn’t skip it when the ache showed up. It’s not a sad ache, just a reminder that I’m here, feeling things in my own time.
I guess what I’m noticing is how real it feels to let my heart take up space, even if it’s quiet. No need to name it, or make it mean something big. Right now, the softest thing I can do is let myself be exactly as slow or as open as I need. Some days, that’s the whole truth. And it feels like enough.