Seems like I’m entering my soft era — not just in my mind, but in my body, too.
And it feels entirely new to me.
I grew up in an environment where crying, talking about emotions, or showing any kind of weakness was seen as… weak. Unwanted. Too sensitive. Not tough enough.

At least, that’s how it felt to me.

I still don’t know if it stemmed from my family simply not knowing how to care for someone more sensitive — or if it was pure neglect. Or… something else. I don’t know. I may never know.

But in my late teenage years, I started to notice a shift. A gentle nudge toward something different.

Influenced by the people I chose to surround myself with, I was finally allowed to be softer. To feel. To be open with my emotions and thoughts.
It wasn’t something to hide anymore.
In fact — it became the very thing that helped me connect most deeply with others: being vulnerable and honest about myself.

And you know what — it‘s not about saying the right thing when somebody opens up to you or cries in front of you — it‘s about holding space for them and just listening to what they need to get out of their system. To just be there and stay.

I’ve noticed that when I allow myself to be softer, I make better decisions — for my physical, mental, and emotional health.
I’m no longer trying to prove anything to anyone.
I simply make choices based on how my body and mind align with them.
And if my body doesn’t agree with a decision later? That’s okay — I can change it. There are always signs. There always have been.

I’ve also noticed that when I lean more into my softer side, I become calmer. More aware.
More at peace with myself.
I don’t want to create the illusion that I’m always — or ever — one hundred percent at peace with myself.
And honestly? I don’t think anyone should be.
I’m constantly evolving. And so are my decisions.

If I were already completely at peace with who I am, I wouldn’t feel the intrinsic motivation to keep growing, to keep improving.

And maybe that’s what softness really is —
not weakness, but wisdom.
The wisdom to pause.
The wisdom to listen.
The wisdom to trust that your body, your mind, your heart already know what you need —
if only you let them speak.

I’ve learned that being soft doesn’t mean letting the world walk all over you.
It doesn’t mean giving up, or giving in.
It means showing up as you are — fully.
It means being honest about your limits, your feelings, your needs.
It means knowing that strength and softness aren’t opposites.
They coexist.

And maybe my soft-era isn’t a phase at all.
Maybe it’s who I was always meant to be —
I just had to grow into it.

So I’ll keep choosing softness.
Even when it feels uncomfortable.
Even when the old voice in my head calls me weak.
Because I know better now.
Soft is not weak.
Soft is brave.

So long, keep growing. Until we meet again.