**The Quiet of Being**

9:01 AM—The dress is hanging in my closet again. The jeans are folded in a drawer. The linen pants? Currently on my floor, where I stepped out of them last night after Liam and I got caught in that weird LA drizzle that no one ever expects.

I’m in sweats today. Actual sweats—the kind with a coffee stain near the pocket and a stretched-out waistband. And for the first time in… maybe ever? I don’t feel the need to explain it.

Because here’s what I’m realizing: growth isn’t about the outfit. It’s about the absence of the narrative around it.

1. I’m obsessed with the mundane. That dress was a lesson in ease. Those jeans were a lesson in imperfection. These sweats? They’re just… clothes. No metaphor. No journey. Just fabric on skin. And that’s freeing.

2. My creativity is learning to exist without pressure. That framed cartoon of Ethan? It’s still hanging behind the counter. Yesterday, a customer pointed at it and asked, "Is that modern art?" Ethan deadpanned, "No, it’s Mandy’s." And instead of dying inside, I laughed. Actually laughed. Not every creation needs to be good. Sometimes it just needs to be.

3. I’m falling in love with the unremarkable moments. Liam texted this morning: "You left your umbrella." No "When can I see you?" No "I miss you." Just… a fact. And instead of spinning it into a thing, I replied "Keep it." He sent back a thumbs-up. And that was enough.

Ethan handed me my coffee today—black, splash of oat—and didn’t comment on my outfit. Just a nod, a "Morning."

No observation. No smirk. Just… acknowledgment.

And for the first time, that felt like the real victory.

xx Mandy

(P.S. That umbrella? Still at Liam’s. Still not a metaphor.)