Today felt like a small turning point. After the lawyer left, I sat quietly for a moment and realised just how much I had shared — about my youngest son not replying to my messages, about wanting to see my granddaughter, and about my hopes for independence and having my own place. It was a lot to say out loud, but it was honest, and it needed to be said.
I decided to send her on my blog. It felt vulnerable, almost like handing someone a piece of my heart, but I wanted her to understand things in my own words — not just the quick version from a short meeting. My blog holds the parts of my story that don’t fit neatly into case notes or forms. It shows who I am, what I’m trying to rebuild, and what matters most to me.
I’ve texted my son again. I don’t know if he’ll reply. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But today I took a step toward reconnecting, and I let myself be seen. That feels like a beginning — a quiet one, but a real one.