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The house is finally quiet. The only sounds are the soft hum of the refrigerator and the gentle clinking of my spoon against a ceramic mug of tea that’s already gone lukewarm. The day’s dishes are stacked and waiting, a silent monument to the beautiful, chaotic rhythm of a life with little ones. In these moments, after the last story has been read and the last goodnight kiss has been given, I find myself reaching for a certain kind of quiet.
Tonight, that quiet came in the form of a song filling the kitchen from my small speaker. A voice that sounds like it’s been through things, that doesn’t try to smooth over the cracks. It’s honest and a little bit raw, the kind of music that feels less like a performance and more like a confession whispered between friends. It made me think about how hard it is to find your own sound, in a world that’s already so full of noise.
I looked down at my phone to see who was singing, and the name on the screen was ` noah cyrus`. For a moment, my brain connected the dots to a famous family, to a story I thought I already knew. But the music I was hearing told a different story. It wasn’t about being someone’s sister or someone’s daughter; it was about the messy, tender, and sometimes painful work of just being yourself. It felt like a quiet declaration of self, a claiming of one’s own space.
It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? To grow up with everyone thinking they know who you are. We all feel that in small ways, I think. We wear the labels of our jobs, our roles in the family, the expectations of our friends. And sometimes, it takes so much courage to peel them back and ask, “But what do *I* sound like? What is the song that is only mine to sing?”
Listening to that song, I felt a deep sense of warmth for the journey. Not just hers, but for all of us trying to find our way back to our own voice. For anyone who has ever felt like they were living in a shadow and had to fight to find their own patch of sun. It’s not about being perfect or polished. It’s just about being real. And tonight, in the quiet of my kitchen, that felt like more than enough. 🧸
What’s a small, quiet moment that recently made you feel a little more like yourself?
Tonight, that quiet came in the form of a song filling the kitchen from my small speaker. A voice that sounds like it’s been through things, that doesn’t try to smooth over the cracks. It’s honest and a little bit raw, the kind of music that feels less like a performance and more like a confession whispered between friends. It made me think about how hard it is to find your own sound, in a world that’s already so full of noise.
I looked down at my phone to see who was singing, and the name on the screen was ` noah cyrus`. For a moment, my brain connected the dots to a famous family, to a story I thought I already knew. But the music I was hearing told a different story. It wasn’t about being someone’s sister or someone’s daughter; it was about the messy, tender, and sometimes painful work of just being yourself. It felt like a quiet declaration of self, a claiming of one’s own space.
It’s a strange thing, isn’t it? To grow up with everyone thinking they know who you are. We all feel that in small ways, I think. We wear the labels of our jobs, our roles in the family, the expectations of our friends. And sometimes, it takes so much courage to peel them back and ask, “But what do *I* sound like? What is the song that is only mine to sing?”
Listening to that song, I felt a deep sense of warmth for the journey. Not just hers, but for all of us trying to find our way back to our own voice. For anyone who has ever felt like they were living in a shadow and had to fight to find their own patch of sun. It’s not about being perfect or polished. It’s just about being real. And tonight, in the quiet of my kitchen, that felt like more than enough. 🧸
What’s a small, quiet moment that recently made you feel a little more like yourself?
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