30/03/2026
It’s a year to the day that I made the step to leave my relationship. And my beautiful card for today.
The Scroll of the Open Door
I did not arrive here all at once.
There was no single moment where the sky split open and declared me ready.
I came here slowly.
Through tears I didn’t think would end.
Through nights where the silence felt louder than any voice.
Through choosing myself again, and again,
when everything in me wanted to turn back.
And now, I find myself here.
At the door.
Not closed.
Not locked.
Open.
Light spilling through it, like something that was always waiting, never withheld, only unseen until I was ready to stand before it without fear pretending to be wisdom.
Because this is the part no one speaks of, not really.
The fear is not in the leaving.
Not in the breaking.
Not even in the grief.
The fear is here.
At the threshold.
Where there is no ground to step onto.
Where the old rules no longer apply.
Where control dissolves and certainty does not follow.
Where you realise, you are not meant to land.
You are meant to trust that you will be carried.
And beside me, I see them now.
The broom.
The buckets.
Once tools of survival.
Once symbols of all I had to hold, clean, manage, endure.
But they are empty.
There is nothing left to scrub from my past.
No stain left that needs my attention.
No story left that requires my constant return.
The work is not unfinished.
It is complete enough to set me free.
And so the broom is no longer something I carry
to clean up what has been.
It becomes something else entirely.
A quiet, almost playful invitation.
You may ride now.
Above me, the bunting dances.
Soft, unnoticed celebration.
Not for who I was when I was surviving, proving,
holding it all together,
But for who I am now that I no longer have to.
Six stars.
A number that hums with harmony, with home, with a life no longer built on effort but on alignment.
I could stay here.
In the warmth.
In the light.
With my legs dangling over the edge of everything I once knew, feeling the love that does not need to be earned, touch my face for the first time without resistance.
I could stay…
But that is not the invitation.
The invitation is quieter.
Softer.
Truer.
Step.
Not onto something solid.
Not into something known.
But into space.
Into choice.
Into a life no longer shaped by fear but by the freedom to move without needing to be certain.
This is the moment it shifts.
Not because something new has been given to me, but because I can finally see what has been waiting all along.
The door was never locked.
The light was never withheld.
And I…
I was never meant to stay behind it.
Today, I do not carry the past forward.
Today, I do not return to clean what has already been cleared.
Today, I honour the work by releasing it.
And with nothing left in my hands but trust,
I step.
Not to arrive.
Not to prove.
Not to become.
But simply to be carried.
And somewhere, just beyond the threshold,
I feel it,
Not a destination.
Not an ending.
But a quiet, steady knowing that I am already home xx
