A soft place to land, a mirror to look within.
I started writing because I was afraid of how easily thoughts would disappear. Not the important—but the small ones. How light shifts when I leave a room. The sound of a page turning in the night.
Small observations. They don’t ask to be understood.
Only to be recorded and maybe read, slowly.
— LucÃa M.
-
≻: When I Wanted to Give Up, But I Held On
🌿 There was a stretch of time when sickness settled over my life like a heavy fog. The sickness that doesn’t just wear down your…
-
Hello World!
↳
≻: Hello World!Hello, World. Welcome to The Gentle Mirror. This little corner is finally opening its doors, and I’m so glad you’re here. This space will be…
