Hey, hi, hello again suga,

If you’ve been following along, you know I’ve been deep in my annual hibernation—like bear-level. Less growling, more journaling. I shut the world out, said “nah” to extra commitments, and leaned all the way into quiet. Because sometimes, recovery looks like disappearing for a bit. And sometimes, it’s the only way I know how to come back to myself.

But now? The sun is showing up a little earlier, the birds are singing like they just got back from vacation, and I’m feeling the nudge to re-enter the world. Slowly. Softly. With snacks.

So here I am, peeking out of the cozy cave, squinting into the light, asking:
How do we re-engage with life after intentional stillness?
And maybe more importantly:
How do we do it without losing ourselves all over again?

🌀 Recovery Isn’t Linear (and Neither Is Re-entry)

Let’s be honest—spring doesn’t just show up like “BOOM! Blossoms and butterflies!” It’s more like: a thunderstorm one day, summer weather the next, and existential dread sprinkled throughout. Coming back after hibernation feels a lot like that too.

Sometimes we imagine our return to routines, creativity, or community will be smooth and energized. But for many of us — it’s awkward. It’s clunky. It’s filled with doubt, fear, and the very real temptation to cancel plans and go back to bed.

Still, we return. In our own time. At our own pace. Because we’re learning to trust that even the slowest start still counts.

🌼 What I’m Noticing in This Season of Re-Emergence

My energy is cautious, not endless.
I’m learning to protect the slowness I cultivated over winter, even as the world speeds up around me.
My routines feel unfamiliar.
Which is okay. I’m rebuilding, not resuming. There’s no rush to “bounce back”—especially from something I intentionally paused.
I crave connection—but only the nourishing kind.
Small talk? Meh. Give me conversations about grief, healing, art, dreams, and liberation. Or give me silence and snacks.
The world is still wild.
And while the political landscape is a whole mess (like, the fall of an empire mess), I’m trying not to absorb it all at once. Because activism, like recovery, has to be sustainable.

🧰 Re-Emergence Care Kit (aka Things Keeping Me Grounded)

Affirmations and mini vision boards for how I want spring to feel (not just what I want to accomplish)
Community reminders — folks in my corner saying, “you don’t have to rush this”
Morning sunlight + deep breaths & prayer (even if I do it through a window)
Permission to start small — one email, one conversation, one post
Water, water, and more water. Even when I want Londo’s and vibes

📝 Prompts for Reflection

Think about the last time you paused something intentionally—maybe it was a routine, a relationship, a dream, or your entire sense of direction.

What did that pause teach you?
What does “returning” look like for you now?
What’s one thing you want to bring with you from your hibernation season into this new one?

Jot it down. Say it out loud. Text it to someone who gets it. Or comment below—I’d love to hear from you.

☀️ Parting Thoughts: Coming Back Isn’t a Performance

Spring invites us back into movement, yes—but it doesn’t demand perfection. It doesn’t expect us to have a color-coded plan or a six-step glow-up. It just asks us to keep growing, even if it’s slow and weird and sideways.

So here’s to all of us stepping back into life with shaky knees and soft hearts.
We are not behind.
We are not broken.
We are blooming—just in our own damn time.

With care,
TM 💚

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I create content and share my life experiences to show how I tapped into my intrinsic power and turned my pain into purpose through recovery.

I’m grateful to be here still, as long as I am blessed to be alive, I will be a blessing to others.

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