I’ve had a really horrible week… too much happening all at once personally, and it’s been heavy.
It’s been seven months since starting my new job—though I guess it’s not so new anymore. Something about that realization made me pause yesterday in the middle of all the messiness. For the first time, I felt ready to make my workspace feel… well, mine. Warm. Welcoming. A place where I don’t feel like I’m just passing through, but somewhere I’m beginning to truly belong.
For two and a half years before this, I went to work every day with a knot in my stomach. I was anxious, scared, and constantly bracing myself in an environment so toxic that, near the end, I cried every day—on my way there, on my way home—and then lay awake at night hoping morning wouldn’t come, because I couldn’t imagine facing another day. I felt trapped. I walked on eggshells from the minute I stepped inside. And even though I made some beautiful, lifelong friendships, I always had one foot out the door. I could never settle. Maybe I couldn’t feel settled under that kind of chaos and duress. I never allowed myself to create a space to breathe, to exhale, to simply exist. So when the chance to leave came, I didn’t just walk—I ran.
Yesterday, I hung a few pictures beside my desk. Photos of my family. Such a small gesture, yet it felt like laying down a welcome mat at a home I didn’t know I was allowed to claim. Both feet fully planted. A quiet reminder that I’m a survivor—and that I’m in a place where I can stay, grow, and maybe even flourish in the comfort of feeling valued and appreciated. I’m slowly beginning to believe I’m worthy of that.
Shabbat Shalom. 💙
#pictures #smallgestures #growth #pause #breathe #exhale #imasurvivor #suicidalideations #youareenough #validation #belonging #appreciation #mentalhealth #anxiety #depression
YouAreEnough 