Maybe I Needed to Fall Back Into Myself

There is something about October that makes me want to slow the eff down.

The air gets cooler. The days get shorter. The leaves start changing. Everyone collectively decides that candles are suddenly a personality trait.

And honestly?

I’m here for it.

But there’s something else I love about fall.

It reminds me that change doesn’t always have to be loud.

The leaves don’t wake up one morning and announce, “GUYS, I’VE DECIDED TO BECOME A DIFFERENT VERSION OF MYSELF.”

They just change.

Quietly.

Naturally.

One day they’re green.

Then they’re yellow.

Then orange.

Then red.

And eventually, they let go.

I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately.

About how often we treat change like something that needs a dramatic announcement.

A new job.

A new relationship.

A new year.

A new haircut.

A new version of ourselves that we proudly introduce to the world.

But maybe some of the most important changes happen quietly.

Maybe growing doesn’t always look like becoming someone completely different.

Maybe sometimes it’s simply returning to the person you were before you started worrying so much about who everyone else needed you to be.

Maybe it’s remembering what makes you happy.

Maybe it’s setting a boundary you should have set years ago.

Maybe it’s picking up an old hobby.

Maybe it’s admitting that something no longer fits.

Maybe it’s deciding that you don’t want to spend another season exhausted from trying to hold everything together.

And maybe it’s realizing that you don’t have to become a completely new person to deserve a fresh start.

Sometimes you just need to fall back into yourself.

So that’s what I’m trying to do this fall.

Less rushing.

More noticing.

Less explaining.

More living.

Less worrying about whether I’m doing life “right.”

More asking myself whether I’m actually enjoying the life I’m living.

I don’t know exactly what this next season will bring.

And for once, I’m trying not to demand an answer.

I’m just going to put on a sweater, grab something warm to drink, my next read, watch the leaves change, and let myself become whatever comes next.

Maybe that’s enough.

Maybe that’s the point.