The first step.
The faltering step. 

The step you almost didn’t take.

The one where you turned back.
The one where you leapt.

Each one belongs to your becoming.

Even the sideways ones.

Even the stumbles.
Even the pauses.

Progress isn’t always forward.
Healing isn’t always visible.

But every step tells the story
of someone still willing to try.

You don’t need to move quickly.

You just need to keep coming home to yourself.

And that?
That counts more than you know.