There’s a certain grace to staying

I used to think growth was all motion.

New plans, new places, new people.
But sometimes, it’s not. Sometimes, the bravest thing is to stay.

To stay in a feeling long enough to understand it.
To stay in a room long enough to become familiar with its shadows.
To stay with a person—not because it’s easy, but because leaving would mean abandoning a part of yourself, too.

Staying isn’t stuck.
It’s sacred patience.
A quiet pact between who you were and who you might still become.