You can't go back to not knowing. And underneath the complexity of these days underneath what's been surfacing and finally being named there's a quiet relief in it. Because the knowing, as uncomfortable as it's been to hold, has been returning you to yourself. This is what it feels like to stop being a stranger to your own interior. To sit with what's true about you without trying to fix it or make it easier to carry. Just letting it exist. Just letting yourself be fully witnessed by you without the editing. You begin trusting yourself again. The instincts you talked yourself out of. The clarity you dimmed to keep the peace. It all begins returning. Not loudly. Like something that was always there, finally being allowed back in. What you're building now isn't a new version of yourself. It's a return to the original one. The version of you that existed before the world told you who to be. Before being accepted became more important than being understood. That version of you was never lost. It was waiting for you to become someone safe enough to return to. You are that now. Welcome back to yourself.