It’s that first moment of newness. The little sensory reminders that things are changing: a floral breeze, a warmer sunrise, a flicker of curiosity. As someone who struggles with transitions, this kind of small shift feels doable. Even comforting.

I’ve gone through a lot internally lately. Learning I’m autistic was part of it, but just as important was believing what I already knew about myself—my talents, my perspective, my spirituality. I didn’t have time to process it, and that turned into physical burnout. This season is me choosing to lean into my truth instead of numbing it out.

More than anything, I want to create a space where I can be myself—and let others in. I haven’t always allowed that, even with good people. But I want that to change. Moondrop Grove is a chance to build trust, community, and a softer version of growth. For myself and maybe for others, too.