Returning to Self After Disconnection
INDIVIDUAL PIECE 4 - BY SAIRA ANWAR
There are seasons when we forget ourselves.
Not because we want to, but because life pulls us so far from who we were that we don’t even realize we’ve let go of the thread. It begins quietly. One compromise, then another. You abandon rest for obligation. Your voice for harmony. Your softness for survival.
You wake up one day, and realize you’ve become fluent in hiding. And it’s not always a person or event that causes it. Sometimes it’s the slow accumulation of small betrayals to your truth. A life that fits around others, but doesn’t hold space for you. A story where your own name gets whispered
only in private. I know that ache. Of wanting to belong so deeply that you leave yourself behind to be loved. Of reaching for hands that don’t reach back. Of pretending that silence is peace, when really, it’s erasure. But here is the quiet miracle. You can return. You don’t have to wait for permission or proof or applause.
You can decide,
even if your voice trembles, that you’re worthy of hearing again. Returning to self isn’t loud. It’s not a grand rebrand. It’s not a neon sign or a dramatic exit. It’s the quiet practice of remembering. Of calling your spirit back, one piece at a time. It looks like writing your name on a page after months of invisibility. It looks like honoring your no even when it’s easier to say yes. It looks like grieving who you were, without shame for how long you stayed lost.
For me, it began with poetry. A single line, scribbled in the margins of a life that felt blurred. That line became a bridge. And I crossed it. Back into feeling. Back into voice. Back into the parts of me that had waited so patiently to be remembered.
There is no perfect moment to return.
No finish line that says you’ve made it. Just the slow unfolding of homecoming. Sometimes you will falter. Sometimes you will forget again. But the thread is still there. Even when it thins, it does not break. And if you’ve ever felt too far gone, too changed, too weary to find your way back. I promise, you’re not.
You are not broken beyond recognition. You are simply between chapters. And the pen is still in your hand. Return to your softness. Return to your fire. Return to the truth that your voice is not too much, your needs are not a burden, and your presence, was never meant to be hidden. You are still yours. Even after all that was lost. Even after all that tried to claim you. You are still here. And that is enough.
 | A guest post by
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There are essays that you read, and then there are essays that you feel in your marrow. Saira has written the latter. This piece is a breathtaking map for anyone who has ever felt their own name becoming a whisper in their own life. 'You are still yours' what a vital, holy reminder. I am deeply moved by Saira’s vulnerability here; she reminds us that returning to oneself isn't a loud explosion, but a quiet, brave homecoming. Please, read this slowly. Let it settle. And if you know someone who is currently 'between chapters,' send this to them. It might just be the thread they need to find their way back. 🕯️
I'm in love with this ♥️