Quiet Wins

Today felt like five days stacked on top of each other. It started heavy—physically painful, emotionally tangled—and somehow ended in a quiet kind of peace.

I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and got straight to work. The pain was already there, but I pushed through until around 7 a.m., when it finally took over. I sat through two morning recovery meetings, but by the third, I got distracted by a phone call and missed the whole thing. Oops. Oh well.

There was another one of those long, looping conversations with someone I started dating—a recurring rhythm lately. A mix of vulnerability and pressure, where emotional pace becomes a mismatch. It was disappointing. I wanted things to work. But I’ve learned I can’t abandon my own timing just to meet someone else’s expectations. Not again. Not now. I am just not willing to rush into anything before getting to know someone first.

Later, I took the dog to the park. We had it all to ourselves. I clipped on the e-collar and we worked—just basic commands, in the calm. She did great. She’s starting to test boundaries a little on leash, but she listens, she adjusts, she’s learning. So am I.

When we got home, the pain was loud again. I had more work I wanted to do, but my body said no. So I listened. I rested. I laid down and breathed through it.

Then came the text: someone was coming by. I was surpised, she told me a few days prior she wouldn’t be coming due to a cough… but now she was coming, and she was coming now.

Always happy to host.. so I rallied. I couldn’t do a deep clean, but I tidied. I lit candles. Fluffed pillows. Straightened the bed. Set out water and snacks like a soft welcome by her bed. Turned the air down a little cooler. I wanted the space to feel serene. Safe. Welcoming, as I always do.

I shared the front door code in advance. I already knew there wouldn’t be a call or heads-up—they wanted to try it on their own. So I waited downstairs.

And when they arrived, it was simple. Calm. The kind of quiet that doesn’t feel strained, just… still. They made their way upstairs at their own pace. The dog did her usual over-the-top greeting. I was honestly very deeply tired—so I hopped under the blankets on the couch and waited for her to get settled.. and finally retire for the night.

Now the loft bed is occupied, the apartment is dim and peaceful, and I’m curled up on the couch. The dog is asleep at my feet. The night is quiet. It’s been a long day. But in this moment, everything feels soft.

With Love,

Dana and Nicky.