Mid-January & Somewhere in the Middle

my reasons <3

Two weeks into the year and things already feel… different. Not loud or dramatic, just quietly shifted. The kind of change you only notice when you stop for a second and realize you’re breathing a little easier.

Subbing has turned into more than just something to fill time. I’ve settled into a rhythm — early mornings, classrooms that are never the same twice, kids who somehow manage to be exhausting and hilarious at the exact same time. Some days are chaos, some days are surprisingly sweet, but even on the rough ones I leave with at least one moment that sticks with me. That alone feels like progress.

The walks have become my anchor. A mile doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a mile of fresh air, moving forward, and letting my thoughts wander without spiraling. Clyde and Ollie seem to sense it too — calmer, happier, more in sync. I still miss Piper in ways that sneak up on me, but walking feels like a quiet way of carrying her with me instead of letting the sadness take over.

I’m also feeling something I didn’t expect this early in the year — excitement. Classes start again soon, and for the first time in a while, I’m genuinely ready. I’m almost finished. I’m halfway through my GI Bill, but realistically I only have 2026 left. Being about 90% sure I’ll graduate in December still feels surreal. After everything, that feels huge.

While I’m finally starting to feel grounded, everything outside of me feels chaotic.

It feels like everything has been flattened into extremes — either outrage or blind loyalty — while the real people affected are barely visible anymore. When violent crimes committed by immigrants happen, those victims and their families often disappear from the conversation, as if acknowledging them would complicate a narrative someone wants to protect.

At the same time, I know people who live here, love this country, and still feel afraid because of where they were born or how they arrived. Both of those realities exist at the same time, even though social media pretends they can’t.

I believe in following the law. I believe rules exist for a reason, and that a society without accountability eventually hurts the people it’s supposed to protect. But I also believe that human beings are not problems to be solved or numbers to be moved around. When someone I love worries about being targeted simply for being an immigrant, while others are hurt by crimes that go underreported or ignored, it exposes how broken our systems — and our conversations — have become.

What frustrates me most is how little space there is for honesty anymore. News outlets pick sides. Algorithms reward outrage. True journalism, the kind that asks hard questions and reports inconvenient facts, feels like it’s being pushed out by whatever story will get the most clicks. And somewhere in all that noise, the truth gets buried. We’re left with fear instead of facts, and chaos instead of understanding.

I don’t have all the answers, and I’m no longer pretending that I should.

What I do have is a growing awareness of how important it is to slow down, to listen carefully, and to resist being pulled into noise that doesn’t lead anywhere good. I know who I’m trying to be as I move through this year — someone steady, thoughtful, and unwilling to let fear or outrage dictate how I see the world. Some days that looks like walking a mile. Other days it looks like sitting with uncomfortable thoughts instead of scrolling past them.

Halfway through January, I’m learning that reflection can be just as powerful as action. Staying grounded, even when everything else feels unsteady, feels like its own kind of progress.