Our house is simpler now. No fancy upgrades. The couch is thrifted. The AC goes on without a committee vote. When I turn my key, the door opens to quiet—and to choices we made ourselves. It’s not perfect. It’s ours.
If you’ve ever had to reclaim your space—your home, your voice, your breath—I hope you know this:
You are allowed to change the locks.
You are allowed to draw the line.
You are allowed to build a life that answers only to the people who live in it.
