**Permission to Pause**

9:01 AM—Ethan handed me my latte today with a tired smile. No foam art, no witty banter—just a quiet "Rough night?" when he saw the dark circles under my eyes. I laughed, nodded, and took the coffee like a lifeline.

Because here’s the thing I’m finally admitting: Sometimes growth looks like standing still.

My sketchbook is open to a blank page. Blank. No half-finished designs, no scribbled mantras—just crisp, untouched paper. A week ago, that would’ve sent me into a spiral of "Why aren’t I creating?!" Today? I’m learning that rest is part of the process.

Here’s where I’m at now:

1. I’m giving myself permission to not have a hot take. Liam texted this morning—"You good? You seem quiet." Instead of forcing a bubbly reply, I sent back: "Just in my head. Need a minute." No performative positivity. Just honesty. And it felt like a relief.

2. My creativity needs breathing room. That blank page? I used to treat silence like failure—"If I’m not producing, I’m falling behind." Now I’m starting to see the empty spaces as necessary. Like the pause between breaths. Like the hush before a runway show.

3. I’m learning to love the in-between seasons. October in LA is caught between summer’s last gasp and fall’s slow arrival—warm mornings, chilly nights, no clear shift yet. I used to rush through these transitions, desperate for the next thing. Now? There’s beauty in the waiting.

Ethan just handed someone a latte with an elaborate foam rose. A month ago, I would’ve felt guilty for not being "on" enough to earn one. Today? I cradle my plain cup like a promise: It’s okay to just be.

Growth isn’t always forward motion. Sometimes it’s the courage to say, "I need a minute," and mean it.

xx Mandy

(P.S. That blank page? Still empty. And for once, I’m not rushing to fill it.)