Your Story is the Light Someone Needs
Walking Into the Waiting Room I can still picture it: fifteen-year-old me walking into a hospital waiting room, surrounded by adults. Some looked worn out by life, others kept to themselves. I had come alone for another appointment, trying to carry myself with quiet confidence. I wasn’t fearless but I had learned that sometimes you kept showing up because that was how you moved forward. From Journals to Hope My teenage years were a blur of moving between homes and schools. I was always trying to fit in, because at the time, being “different” didn’t feel like a good thing. That was when journaling became my safe space. I poured my thoughts, prayers, and dreams onto paper. I didn’t write for anyone to read them, but deep down I hoped my words might one day encourage someone going through a hard time. Hospital visits alone, moments of wanting someone to understand these experiences slowly grew in me a desire to share my story so that others wouldn’t feel as alone as I somet...