There’s a strange ache that lives inside me. It’s not rooted in lack.
It’s not about wanting more to take—
It’s wanting more to give.
My life is meaningful. I know that.
I’m deeply grateful. I feel that.
But still, there’s this quiet, constant tug in my chest—
like I’m meant to contribute something bigger.
To become something fuller.
To meet myself in a future I can almost taste,
but can’t quite reach yet.
It’s not sadness. It’s not impatience.
It’s just… the awkwardness of limbo.
That in-between place where everything is okay—
but nothing feels finished.
Where you’re content, but not complete.
Peaceful, but still pacing.
I’m not unhappy. Actually, I’m really happy.
Like, genuinely.
And maybe that’s what’s throwing me off.
I’m someone who’s been so used to chaos,
that calm feels unfamiliar.
And unfamiliarity always brings questions.
Is this it?
Am I doing enough?
Am I giving enough?
Am I even being enough?
Because there’s this soul-level hunger that says:
“You were built for something more.”
And not more fame, or more money, or more validation—
but more meaning.
More expression.
More pouring out of who I really am.
Maybe that’s what the ache for more is:
a reminder that I’m still becoming.
That the kettle hasn’t whistled yet,
but the water is warming.
That something’s brewing beneath the surface.
And my only job is to stay present while it does.
It’s okay not to know what’s next.
It’s okay to feel both full and restless.
It’s okay to be here—exactly where I am—
and still want to grow beyond it.
That’s not ungrateful.
That’s human.
⸻
So I’ll sit with the ache.
Let it move through me instead of shame me.
Let it stir me instead of still me.
Because maybe this ache is divine.
Maybe it’s fuel.
I don’t want life to just pass by.
I want to be my purpose.
I want to exert my worth.
And that’s what I’m doing.
I’m coming out. Fort Worth.
So I guess here I am,
just trying to ramble on,
right now I’m lingering
with something for you to hold on.
And I don’t necessarily know if there is anything.
Maybe it’s one of those things you’ll understand.
Or maybe you won’t.
Maybe I should be satisfied—
but I’m not going to shame myself for craving more.
There’s always room to want more
when you know there’s more of you left to give.
So I won’t numb the ache.
I’ll let it lead me.
I want to be more of me.
And give it to you.
And that, I think—
is what I’m here to do.
