There’s something sacred about a blank page. Something terrifying, too. The silence of it. The infinite possibility. The weight of “begin again.” But sometimes, life invites us to start over, not because we failed, but because we’ve outgrown the life we once fit into. What if starting over wasn’t about running away, but finally coming home? What if becoming new… just means becoming real? We’re...
If I started over… now who would I become?
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