In solitude, I find a different kind of connection – one that doesn’t come from the noise of others but from my own silence, not always by choice. It’s not the loneliness I feared; rather, the place where I meet the parts of myself I’d not tapped into – I've had a lot of healing to do.
The CP Diary is where I have found solitude and that's where I have peace. Without the distraction of external voices, I’ve started listening to my own. As I embrace the solitude, I am starting to heal. But I don't think it's just for me.
We should all come back to ourselves.
'The soul version of ourselves.'
Losing my twin, isn't about moving on, but rather making space for both loss and grief to co-exist. I know my twin is around me, woven into the fabric of who I am. We shared a life, not always easy, but she knows now and is on board with what each of us got to deal with. Here absence has become a part of me – a silent guide, a reminder of the life we shared.
The world tells us to fear being alone, to the point where we feel we need to continue to chase connections. But I’ve learned that true connection starts with us. I choose solitude, not as a retreat but as a homecoming – for me it's a return to the most authentic version of myself.
Now, in the quiet moments, I find solitude and inner peace. Given my disability, I cannot feel or sense my twin, but I know she is around. The solitude that initially felt like a silent void has become a place of connection. It's in these moments of stillness that I remember that I am not alone. The twinness we had hasn't ended; it's simply found a new way to exist, living on in the spaces we once shared and in the silence that now holds us together.
