By Kyra Oakland

It’s said that in the light, things grow.
And by things, I mean us. Our personal growth. Our egos decay, and the true spirit of who we are begins to shine through.

But what comes after that?
When the reality of the world—the terror, the heartbreak—breaks down the mind games, the walls, the maze… what then?
When we’re no longer entertained by algorithms or superficial encounters.

What do we do with the silence that remains?

How can I return to the mundane after experiencing the extremities of pain?
The thrill of joy is something I’m still chasing.
Where do I feel most alive?
That’s what I have to keep moving toward. I crave it every second I’m here.

My passions today are rooted in my pain. They exist because I’ve endured more than I ever should have. But I say this with gratitude.

Don’t twist my words.

I wish I could go back and change the sequence of events that unfolded.

But I can’t.

So I’m left with these memories, these wounds. And I must alchemize this grief.

The highs and lows are intertwined; they always have been. It just took pain, healing, and reflection to understand my own spectrum.

I will always be thankful for the darkness because it has shown me far more than the light ever could.

I’ve grown in ways I couldn’t have imagined before.
Without the pain, I wouldn’t have the passion to stay alive.
Without the pain, I wouldn’t be who I am.

And for that I am grateful to the universe.

Simply yours, Ky