Over the fall, I’ve had the privilege to talk to like-minded people. When one truly steps back from chasing what they think is the dream, only then do they start attracting what’s aligned. While I was already taking it slow, it was only after my accident that I really paused and was divinely guided to stop only to realise my dreams were rooted in integrity with my values, but the paths were not.

Not everyone I came across stuck around, and for the first time it mattered, not in a ‘I always get abandoned, nobody ever sticks around‘ way, but more in a ‘I wonder what the next person I come across teaches me‘ way. And here was one of the biggest lessons of all—when my curiosity frustrates people, it’s not my curiosity that needs to shrink, it’s those connections I’m meant to release.

It’s simple, yet deeply nuanced in real life. We’re conditioned to think that losing people means losing pieces of ourselves. And maybe it’s a little true, maybe there’s more to it? Maybe every person who leaves creates space for truer alignment, the kind that doesn’t demand I silence the parts of me that still want to explore, but instead nurtures them.

What I am learning is that alignment often asks for quiet courage. I’m not talking about the new-age Human Design alignment. And sure, I use astrology day to day but only as a map, not a decided path. I’m talking about aligning oneself with the truth that’s known, even if (or especially if) it’s intangible. The courage to release people who do not understand the way I think, feel, or question life. The courage to accept that not every connection is meant to be permanent, and that temporary presence can still have a sacred purpose.

The questions I ask, the things I notice, the way I seek depth over small talk all guide me toward those who are meant to walk alongside me, even if only for a season. It’s helped me love the abstract even more, and I don’t feel the need to prove I’m on the right path. It’s about noticing who feels like ease, where my values feel seen, and what choices bring me closer to myself. I am still learning, still asking a lot of questions, and I’m no longer fighting my eccentricities because that’s where I live my best life.

I’m learning to trust the pause, the process, and the quiet whisper that says grit and a loving heart always succeed. So I’m redefining what success means to me. Living authentically, even if someone else is uncomfortable, has real value. Authenticity is living my truth while respecting others’ truths. Otherwise, isn’t it just ego?