josh's blog?

“I am grown enough to say it with my whole chest: I am not easy, I am earned. I am not the free sample at the end of the aisle; I am the whole store with the lights on and a key code you will learn only if you show up every day. I am a handful, sure, but only for people who think love is a spare-time hobby. I have been through enough storms to learn the weather, and if you think I will dim my lightning to soothe your fear of thunder, you have mistaken me for a nightlight. I am not the calm you order; I am the calm you build after the fire-because I survived the blaze and I kept the blueprint.

“Life didn't just toughen me up; it forged me. People love to say they want a strong woman until the metal hits their soft excuses and starts ringing. I can be hard to deal with because I am tempered steel, not tinfoil confetti. If you want easy, buy a lawn chair. If you want real, bring gloves and a schedule. I am done apologizing for the armor I hammered from the very nails life tried to hang me on.

“I overthink, yes-because I learned the cost of underthinking. My mind runs diagnostics at 3 a.m. and again at 7, and if you say something sideways, I will map the algebra of your tone before my coffee cools. Call it anxiety if you must; I call it quality control. I am the woman who catches the whisper that saves the day. If nuance bores you, enjoy your black-and-white movie; I'll be over here reading the director's cut and noticing who left the exit unlocked.

“I worry, because my instincts grew out of soil where things went wrong when nobody was watching. I have a radar so sharp it can hear bad faith breathing behind polite words. I pack parachutes for people who swear the plane is fine, and when the engine coughs, guess whose landing is smooth. You can label it control if it makes you feel tall; I call it care with teeth. Do not mistake my preparation for paranoia-my calm arrives because I shook hands with chaos and learned where she keeps the keys. I can be hard to understand because I am layered like a story that refuses to be rushed. My first answer keeps company with three truths and a boundary. If you need everything spoon-fed, there is an app for that; I am a library. Sometimes my silence is not a gap to fill; it is a premium channel you have not subscribed to yet. I don't do subtitles for people who won't learn the language of presence.

“I am beyond territorial because I built my peace like property, brick by brick, after years of being evicted from my own comfort. My home is sacred, my time is gated, and my energy has a dress code: respect only. This is not about owning you; it is about protecting the garden I bled to grow. If I let you in, count the blessing, not the steps I take to guard the door. Touch anything like you found it on clearance and watch your access expire in real time.

“I require patience, and if that feels like work, congratulations on recognizing value. I am not a vending machine; you don't push a button and get my secrets. I open like a vault, not a pop-up ad, and I will not cheapen the combination because your ego is impatient. If you want microwave feelings, there is a drive-thru on every corner. If you want something that feeds you for years, bring a chair, bring consistency, and bring the kind of attention that can tell the difference between my quiet and my concern.

“But when I love, I love like no other-custom, high-voltage, handcrafted, no imitation parts. I study your storms and pack you a jacket before the clouds even think about it. I see the bruise under your favorite joke and kiss the lesson so it stops hurting. I write your name into my prayers and my plans with the same ink, and I don't misspell it. My love is not loud for show; it is loud because it has a job to do and it clocks in early.

“I can give you the world while mine is burning at the edges, because I learned to pour from a cup I refill in secret. I have made dinners in blackouts, birthdays in bad months, and laughter on days that tried to end me. I can set a table during an earthquake and still ask how your day went with both hands steady. This is not martyrdom; this is muscle. I am built to carry joy across a battlefield and still arrive with the ribbon uncreased.

“I am loyal in a way that doesn't crave an audience. I will guard your name when you are not here to defend it. I do not flirt with your enemies and call it networking. I show up on the days that don't trend. If you betray me, I don't stage an opera; I just revoke the lifetime warranty and sleep like an angel. My loyalty has a spine and a memory; it hugs tight and it lets go clean.

“My heart is pure, not because the world was kind to it, but because I refused to lease my soul to bitterness. Softness is not my weakness; it's my weapon. I can cry and still command the room; I can forgive and still remember the map. I run my love through filters: honesty, effort, alignment. What passes through, stays golden. What doesn't, gets recycled into lessons.

“I don't give up on people until I have no choice but to. I will knock until my knuckles match the door, text hope into your midnight even when my morning comes early, and sit by your silence like it's a sick friend. But I do not chase. I choose. When a bond becomes a leash, I cut it. When love asks me to betray myself, I decline the invitation and RSVP to my own peace.

“Accountability looks good on me. I apologize with verbs, not violins. I fix what I cracked without a pity parade. I don't hire excuses to do my PR; I bring the broom, the glue, the calendar, and the changed behavior. If I harmed you, I say so. If I learned, I show so. Growth is not a rumor in my house.

“Boundaries keep me beautiful. No is a full sentence with perfect posture. Access is not a right; it's a privilege audited by consistency. If respect costs you your ego, you are already too broke for me. I don't argue with people who advertise their inability to listen. I simply adjust the volume of my presence until the room remembers how to act.

“Healing is not a hashtag-I clock in. I turn survival into style and therapy into architecture. I hydrate, I journal, I unlearn, I rest, let the sun put its hands on my face and name me alive again. I outgrow cages without sending thank-you notes. I am my own safe place and my own alarm system. I evolved, and I brought receipts.

“If you want proximity, come correct. Bring honesty that isn't allergic to being wrong, patience that doesn't clock out at inconvenience, and consistency that doesn't need an audience. Save the extravagance for holidays; give me daily proof. Don't perform; be. Don't promise; repeat. I can spot effort that only exists when the lights are on, and I keep the switch.

“If I leave, it won't be because Tuesday was ugly. It will be after audits, grace, conversations, and a final prayer for clarity. I won't slam the door; I will close it with ceremony and walk away without looking back to see if you noticed. I don't set people on fire; I just take my wood back and wish your winter well. My exits are clean because my love was clean, and my peace is not a negotiation.

“So here is the headline for the ones in the back: I am thunder in silk, wildfire with a watering can, both storm and sanctuary. Difficult? Sometimes. Worth it?

“Always. The tax for extraordinary is effort, and I do not accept counterfeit. If you want simple, take a stroll. If you want real, lace up. Grown looks good on me. I hold my scars like jewelry and my standards like oxygen. I am not for everyone, and that is my favorite part. I would rather be too much for the wrong crowd than half-alive for the right optics. I am the lesson and the blessing, the warning and the welcome mat, depending on how you walk in.

“Choose me with both hands or not at all. If you do, I will build us a kingdom out of ordinary days and fierce gentleness, crown you with constancy, and teach the walls our names until the echo sounds like home. If you don't, I will still bloom, because the garden was never up for debate. This is my oath in plain words: I am not easy, I am inevitable; stand beside me with your truth, and we will make even the broken pieces ring like bells at dawn.”

Attributed to Steve De'lano Garcia