I’ve written and re-written this introduction more than a dozen times, trying to succinctly explain why I disappeared seven months ago. Trying to do so without going into detail. Without trampling my boundaries. Without tearing open newly stitched wounds.
Turns out my writing tools are a little rusty.
So let me start by simply saying thank you.
Thank you for allowing me to step back. Thank you for your concern. Your kindness. Your emails and Instagram messages and letters. I have read them all, taken heart in them all, and responded to precisely none of them.
My reasons for stepping back have been health-related and all-consuming and for months I literally could not write. I couldn’t compose a text, couldn’t reply to an IG message, couldn’t journal or brain dump or scribble on a Post-It. There were months I thought I would never write another word. I think I said that exact thing more than once. (I know I told my agent I would never write another book again. Grace, if you’re reading this, I think maybe I didn’t mean it…?)
But then, slowly, as always, I found my way back to a blank page. Because of course I did. It’s where I process. Where my thoughts take shape, where I unravel the knots, where I recognise patterns and voices and shiny little gems of truth that have been hiding in plain sight for years, coated in a thick layer of dust.
Recently that blank page has taken a variety of forms. Sometimes a journal. Sometimes poetry or a silly micro story or a funny little kid rhyme. Sometimes it’s actual, paid writing work – an article or web content for someone else. Sometimes it literally is scribbling on a Post It.
And every single one of those blank pages has slowly, often painfully, lead me back here. To this page. This moment of sharing my thoughts with you. This version of myself. And whatever comes next.
So, while I am in no way ready to share the details of the past seven months with The Internet, there are some things I would like this little corner of it to know. And because my writing is a little rusty, I’m going to start in dot points. Hope you don’t mind.
I have been unwell.
I am still in the messy, frustrating, expensive, exhausting process of finding answers.
I am getting treatment, which is helping some things.
I am not ready to share details.
I’ve been waiting “until I know more” before writing again. I’ve been waiting for certainty. A clear path forward. A guarantee that I will find a place of relatively stable health and a new normal before I allow myself to start again, because I’m so, so afraid of backsliding.
But when do we ever have that? When does anyone ever have that kind of certainty? Sure, we make our best guesses and plan accordingly, but the truth is we never know what’s coming.
So, I’m here. Starting again, despite the fear.
I’ve changed a lot since stepping back. I have lost and gained parts of me (literally and figuratively) and there are many days I don’t recognise myself. It’s scary and it’s overwhelming. I have had to re-frame my relationship with control and accept the changing nature of my body. (Definitely a work in progress.) I’ve been forced to redefine my definitions of health, failure, rest, healing, care and slow. (Also a work in progress.)
Mostly though, I’ve had to embrace patience. And holy shit it’s hard. (The irony is not lost on me, don’t worry.)
So what does this mean for this space?
Honestly? I have no clue.
There are questions I don’t want to ask myself because I’m afraid of the answers. So instead, I’m just going to write.
Because what I do know is that I’ve felt a pull to come back here, to this specific blank page, away from the bullshit algorithms of Instagram and the like. Away from over-thinking and over-curation and goddamn reels.
I want to fill this blank page with good stuff. The kind of stuff that makes me glad to be alive. Slowness and sweetness and kindness and joy and awe and delight and wonder and listening to each other and caring about the world within and the world without.
I want this blank page to become our corner of the internet. A beautiful, weird, funny, honest, evolving place where we examine life through different lenses and see what we find.
Beyond that though, I have no freaking idea what I’m doing. And there is no pithy lesson in that. I just think we need to normalise the notion that it’s okay to be a bit (or a lot) lost sometimes. It’s life, and it gives and takes constantly.
I hope you’re doing okay in your corner of the world, and I hope you join me in our corner of the internet. See what we make it.
Take good care,
Brooke xx
No need to explain....just glad you feel well enough to dip your toes back in here....we missed you 💜
My heart did a little skip when I saw your email! Your raw honesty is always welcome in my world and I look forward to fashioning this little corner of the internet with you and the rest of the community. Take care, dear Brooke