Beyond the Silence
Chapter One: The Quiet Resolve
The world doesn't stop spinning just because one life hits pause. I learned that young. There was no dramatic moment that changed everything in an instant. My story wasn’t written in bold strokes or defined by a single event, but in the quiet persistence of each day, the subtle acts of holding on when it felt like letting go would be easier.
I was always the one in the background, observing, analyzing, trying to make sense of it all. I was raised in a place where the horizon stretched wide, but the possibilities often felt narrow. I was no stranger to struggle, and my path was anything but straightforward. But if there was one thing I learned early on, it was how to keep going, even when the ground beneath my feet seemed ready to give way.
Motherhood arrived like a tidal wave, changing the landscape of my world forever. I knew it was coming, yet nothing could truly prepare me for the moment I held my child in my arms for the first time. It was like feeling the weight of the entire universe and the lightness of pure love, all at once. In that instant, I made a silent vow to be everything she needed, even if I wasn’t sure how. There was no manual for this, no guide to navigating the endless nights and uncertain days. I had to figure it out one step at a time, learning to be strong not just for myself, but for the tiny life that depended on me.
The world shifted again when everything outside came to a halt. What was supposed to be a time of settling into a new chapter became a test of endurance. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, the struggle to keep afloat felt more like a constant fight against drowning. Eviction notices, uncertainty, and isolation became regular visitors. There were times when I looked around at the four walls that confined us and wondered if things would ever change. But then, I would see the small, innocent face looking up at me, trusting me to make things right. It was in her laughter, her tiny hands reaching out, that I found the strength to push on.
The story wasn’t one of instant transformation or sudden breakthroughs. It was about finding the will to face another day, about seeking light in the darkest moments. Each day was a battle against the quiet weight of despair that threatened to settle in. There were no grand epiphanies, just a steady resolve to keep going, even when the way forward was shrouded in uncertainty.
I wish I could say there was a single turning point, a moment when everything became clear. But the truth is, I had to learn to navigate life through trial and error. I took missteps, stumbled, and found myself lost more times than I could count. But in those moments, I discovered a different kind of strength—one that didn’t need to be loud or obvious, one that thrived in the quiet persistence of everyday resilience.
As I sit here now, I realize this journey isn’t about perfection or triumph. It’s about the choice to rise each day, to face the world with a kind of stubborn grace. And as for Chapter Two? It’s a story still in the making, one where the real struggles—and the real victories—are yet to unfold.
Is School Really Preparing Us for the Real World?
We spend more than a decade in school, learning everything from the Pythagorean theorem to the history of ancient civilizations. Yet, when we finally step out into the real world, many of us are left wondering: Why didn’t school teach us the basics of adult life?
While algebra and biology might have their place, the absence of practical life skills in our education system leaves students woefully unprepared for everyday challenges. Topics like taxes, credit scores, budgeting, social security, and understanding loans or credit cards are conspicuously absent from the curriculum. Here’s why it matters and what we’re missing:
1. Understanding Taxes and Social Security
Filing taxes is an annual ritual for adults, yet many enter the workforce with little to no understanding of how to do it. What’s more, social security is a significant aspect of our lives, but few people understand how contributions affect their benefits in the future. Why is it that we can recite formulas but can’t file a tax return without help?
2. Credit Scores and Debt Management
Credit scores play a huge role in financial health. They influence loan approvals, interest rates, and even job opportunities. But most of us first learn about credit the hard way—through debt, late payments, or after being denied for a credit card. We don’t understand how to build or maintain good credit because no one taught us the rules of the game.
3. Budgeting and Personal Finance
Personal finance is often an afterthought in traditional education. We graduate knowing how to balance a chemical equation but not a budget. Proper financial literacy can empower young adults to save, invest, and avoid the pitfalls of living paycheck to paycheck. If budgeting and investing were as familiar as the quadratic formula, the next generation could be better equipped for financial independence.
4. The Consequences of Oversight
The lack of practical education has real-world consequences. It can lead to young adults making poor financial choices, falling into debt, or facing legal issues because they didn’t know their rights. The gap between theoretical knowledge and practical application becomes apparent once students leave the structured environment of school and have to navigate the complexities of adult life alone.
5. What Can Be Done?
Integrating life skills into the curriculum is long overdue. Practical subjects could be offered as elective courses in high school or incorporated into existing subjects. Basic finance, understanding insurance, reading contracts, and even navigating workplace etiquette could prepare students to thrive rather than just survive.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.
Dating in Your 30s as a Mom of Two: The Spaces In Between
It’s 10 p.m., and the house is finally quiet. The dishes are done, the toys are scattered like breadcrumbs across the living room, and the kids are tucked away in bed, dreaming of tomorrow’s adventures. In the silence, I find myself pausing, standing in the kitchen with a half-drunk cup of tea, letting the day’s weight settle in.
There was a time when dating was as simple as making plans on a whim, dressing up just because, and seeing where the night took me. These days, my time isn’t so easily given away. There are little ones who need me, a job that demands my attention, and a household that never seems to stay clean for long. It’s not that I’m complaining; this life is filled with the kind of love that spills out of scribbled drawings and bedtime giggles. But between the school pickups, work emails, and stories before bed, there’s a space—a small, quiet space that I haven’t quite figured out how to fill.
Dating now isn’t just about meeting someone I like. It’s about finding someone I can trust, someone who understands that my life is a little chaotic, a little louder than most. It’s about knowing that whoever steps into our world has to be more than just a romantic interest—they have to be the kind of person who can be steady, even when the living room looks like a disaster zone and dinner is whatever I managed to throw together last minute.
Not Just Anyone Will Do
There’s no room for “just anyone” anymore. My girls deserve more than a revolving door of people who don’t stick around. It’s not just my heart I’m protecting; it’s the little lives intertwined with mine, who’ve already learned that love isn’t always simple. I can’t afford to be reckless. I can’t afford to let just anyone in, because opening that door isn’t just about me anymore—it’s about the two little hands that hold onto mine.
And with the world feeling a little more unpredictable these days, it’s hard to know who to trust. It’s not like I’m out meeting people at bars or casually striking up conversations with strangers. My life happens in the spaces where I’m not looking, in the moments when I’m pushing a cart down a grocery aisle or sneaking a quiet coffee break in the middle of a hectic workday. It’s not glamorous, but it’s real, and if someone is going to be a part of it, they need to understand that I come as a package deal—crumbs, chaos, and all.
Finding the Right Kind of Brave
There’s a courage in letting someone get close, especially when life has taught you to be careful. The right person won’t just see the chaos; they’ll see the beauty in it, too. They’ll understand that love, in this stage of life, isn’t about grand gestures or perfect timing—it’s about showing up in the small moments that make up the day. It’s about finding the magic in between the mess, the laughter, and the quiet nights where it’s just me and the sound of the world settling down.
Maybe one day, I’ll cross paths with someone who gets it, who sees that the life I’ve built is already full but has just enough space for the right person to walk in. Until then, I’ll keep living in the beautiful spaces in between, knowing that while dating may not be easy, it’s worth holding out for someone who fits into this messy, wonderful life.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.
Crazies Raising Crazies: The Twisted Eclipse
Under a moon as red as spilled wine, Gerard knelt within a circle of salt and bones, whispering the incantation to raise a fallen disciple. His robes fluttered in the night breeze, and his eyes gleamed with mad devotion as he called upon the Moon of Eternal Madness.
But something went wrong.
The ground trembled, and a foul, scorching heat radiated from the summoning circle. A figure burst forth, not in the expected shroud of lunar shadows but in a blaze of golden light. Gerard stumbled back, eyes wide as a man draped in ancient, sun-marked robes emerged, his eyes glowing like twin suns.
"Who dares disturb my slumber?" the figure bellowed, his voice echoing with the arrogance of centuries. "I am Timothee, High Priest of the Forgotten Sun. Who are you to call me from the ashes?"
Gerard blinked. "The... Moon’s light brought you here," he stammered. "I sought to raise my brother in the Lunatic Order."
Timothee sneered, flicking a wrist as if brushing away the words. "Your moon magic is laughable. You summoned me—Timothee the Unyielding, devout worshiper of the Day of Reckoning!" He glanced around at the circle of bones and scoffed. "You use such petty tools for rituals?"
Gerard’s lips curled into a defiant grin. "And what of your relics? I see none but your ridiculous sun motifs. What good is a ‘Day of Reckoning’ when you’ve been buried for centuries?"
The two stared each other down, both itching to prove their cult’s superiority. Gerard raised his hands, muttering a chant that made the air shimmer with ethereal darkness. Timothee retaliated with a flicker of sunlight that carved through the night. The air crackled with clashing energies—madness and radiance, shadow and flame.
With each spell cast, reality twisted and warped; trees bent like melted wax, stars spiraled out of the sky, and time itself seemed to hiccup. As the chaos grew, the lines between their magics blurred, creating something new—something neither cult had ever imagined.
Amid the madness, they found themselves laughing—first in spite, then in genuine glee. It seemed the more they fought, the closer their magics merged, forming a swirling dance of dark and light.
Timothee smirked as the ground beneath their feet cracked open. “Perhaps this Lunatic Order is not as hopeless as I thought.”
Gerard grinned back, eyes gleaming with newfound madness. “And perhaps the Forgotten Sun has its uses after all.”
And so, from that night onward, the world knew of a new cult: the Order of the Twisted Eclipse.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.
Erased in Silence
The body lies motionless before you, and there’s no undoing what you've done. Panic claws at you, but there’s no time for regret. You have to hide this.
Burning it is tempting—fire consumes everything. But it’s risky; the flames could draw attention. Burial? That needs time, tools, a perfect spot, and you don’t have any of those.
You need something thorough. Dissolution. Acid. It’s dangerous and slow, but it could leave no trace.
You grab the garbage bags and cleaning supplies. There’s no room for hesitation. You have to make this body disappear, and quickly.
The adrenaline surges as you work quickly, scrubbing the bloodstains from the floor and stuffing evidence into garbage bags.
You’re hyper-aware of every sound—the hum of the fridge, the distant barking of a dog, even the faint thump of your own pulse. Each second feels like a countdown.
You know you can’t stay here for long. The longer you linger, the higher the chance someone could notice something off—a passerby, a neighbor. You need to move the body first. You wrap it in a tarp, your hands shaking as you tape it tightly. It’s heavier than you expected, and dragging it across the floor feels like moving a dead weight of guilt itself.
The car is parked out back, far enough from prying eyes. You pop the trunk and heave the body inside, trying not to look too closely at the face—its lifeless eyes staring back at you.
Slamming the trunk shut, you glance around. The night is quiet. Too quiet.
You hit the road, your mind racing as you head toward the outskirts of town, finding somewhere to get rid of the body.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.
The Spaces Between
Amid the chaos of the bustling city, where car horns blared and voices blended into a restless hum, she stood still, her gaze locked on the single red balloon that danced above the crowd, a fragile splash of color against the gray, drifting higher with every breath of wind, as if it were carrying away all the secrets she’d never dared to share.
In the quiet of the woods, beneath a canopy of ancient trees that whispered with each passing breeze, he found himself staring at a weathered map, its creases worn from countless hands, wondering if the path he sought was one that could ever truly be traced, or if it existed only in the spaces between the lines.
Ravenous
The stench hit first—rotting meat and iron. You crept down the basement stairs, flashlight trembling in your hand. There, in the flickering beam, was the source: a mangled body, limbs twisted at impossible angles, skin peeled back to expose muscle and bone.
A low groan echoed. The corpse moved, eyes snapping open, pupils wide and dark as a midnight abyss. Its mouth stretched into a gory grin, teeth stained with dried blood.
You turned to flee, He's Fast. His hand cold, slick with decay—wrapped around your ankle, yanking you down. It whispered, voice like shattered glass, "Stay… I’m so hungry."
Moms Fighting Depression: It’s Okay, You Are Good Enough
Being a mom is one of the most rewarding yet challenging experiences. But when the weight of depression presses on your shoulders, it can feel like you’re drowning in an ocean of expectations. The world around you seems to judge, offering unsolicited advice, leaving you questioning: “Am I doing enough? Am I good enough?”
Here’s the truth: You are enough.
Depression doesn’t define your worth as a mother. And just because your parenting journey doesn’t look like someone else’s doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Every home is different, every child unique. The standards others place on you should never shape your identity as a parent. Who are they to judge you when they don’t live your reality?
It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s okay to ask for help. Fighting depression as a mom is tough, but it doesn’t mean you’re weak. In fact, it makes you incredibly strong. You show up every day for your kids, even when your world feels gray. That’s something to be proud of.
The Silent Struggle
Depression doesn’t always look like sadness. It can look like irritability, exhaustion, or even numbness. Some days, it might be a victory just to get out of bed and tend to your children. And you know what? That’s okay. The pressure to be perfect is a societal lie, and striving for it will only push you further into the shadows of depression.
What we must remind ourselves is this: Our children don’t need perfection. They need love. They need you, just as you are. In the moments when you doubt yourself, remember all the little ways you care for them. Whether it’s reading that bedtime story even when you’re exhausted or just holding them close when they cry, those small acts of love are monumental in their world.
Self-Care is Not Selfish
As mothers, we often put ourselves last, thinking it’s noble to sacrifice every part of ourselves for our families. But how can you pour from an empty cup? Taking care of yourself is essential, not selfish. Whether it’s seeking therapy, taking a walk, or simply carving out ten minutes to breathe, you deserve to be nurtured, too.
Your mental health is important, not just for you but for your children. They need to see a mom who values herself, who fights for her well-being, and who is willing to show vulnerability when necessary. That’s not weakness. It’s bravery.
You Are Not Alone
Millions of moms battle with depression, yet it remains a topic often whispered about in shame. But you are not alone in this. Other mothers feel what you feel. They’ve experienced the same fears and doubts. By acknowledging the struggle, by speaking openly, we can break the stigma surrounding mental health and motherhood.
Reach out. Share your journey with a trusted friend or professional. Sometimes just knowing that someone else understands can lighten the burden. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.
Redefining “Good Enough”
Being a good mom isn’t about meeting society’s standards. It’s about showing up, loving your kids, and doing your best — whatever that looks like for you today. Some days, that might mean tackling endless to-do lists. Other days, it might mean letting the laundry pile up while you simply focus on surviving.
It’s time we stop letting others’ opinions define our parenting. You are the best mother for your children because you are theirs. Your love, even in the midst of struggle, is more than enough.
It’s Okay. We Can Do This.
To all the moms fighting depression: It’s okay. You are doing the best you can, and that’s enough. You are enough. There will be hard days, but there will also be moments of joy, laughter, and love. And in those moments, you’ll see that being “good enough” isn’t about perfection — it’s about showing up, day after day, even when it’s hard.
Remember: You are a warrior, and your love is stronger than any struggle you face.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.
Winging It Lessons I’ve Learned from Life’s Chaos
Life has this hilarious way of giving you a high-five with one hand and flipping everything upside down with the other. Just when you think you’ve finally got it all figured out — your plans are in place, your goals are set, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve got your schedule running smoothly — life shows up like, “Oh, you thought?”
Cue the chaos.
It’s in those moments, right when everything seems to be clicking, that life decides to remind you who’s really in charge. Spoiler alert: it’s not you. Whether it’s a surprise car breakdown, a last-minute work emergency, or just the universe saying, “Not today,” life’s chaos has a way of crashing through even the best-laid plans.
Over time, I’ve learned that survival isn’t about controlling the chaos — it’s about learning how to roll with it. Here are a few lessons life has taught me while I’ve been busy winging it through the madness.
Plans Are Suggestions, Not Guarantees
Once upon a time, I was a planner. I had color-coded schedules, weekly goals, and backup plans for my backup plans. I was convinced that if I could just organize everything, life would fall perfectly into place. Well, guess what? Life doesn’t care about your carefully crafted plans.
Take that one weekend when I had planned a relaxing day. I was going to get in some quality video game time, sip a coffee in peace, and maybe even take a nap. But instead, my kid decided to turn into an aspiring Picasso — on the living room wall — and my quiet day became a whirlwind of scrubbing, bribing with snacks, and Googling “best washable markers.” Plans? Yeah, right.
The lesson here? Life is unpredictable, so plans should be flexible. Think of them as suggestions, not concrete guarantees.
Perfection is Overrated and Exhausting
For years, I chased perfection. I wanted to be the perfect mom, the perfect employee, and the perfect friend. The result? Exhaustion, burnout, and a healthy dose of self-inflicted guilt.
The truth is, perfection is a myth. I’ve learned to embrace the imperfections — because let’s face it, those are where the real life happens. Like the time I decided to try a new lemon chicken recipe I found. I went a little overboard with the lemons and baked them too long. The smell was so strong, I could’ve cleaned the house with that chicken! We ended up ordering takeout instead and laughed about it while airing out the kitchen.
Now, when things go off the rails, I ask myself, “Is it worth the stress?” Nine times out of ten, the answer is no.
Adaptability is Your Secret Weapon
If there’s one thing life teaches you quickly, it’s that adaptability is key. The world will throw you curveballs — whether it’s a sudden change at work or realizing halfway through dinner that you’re out of an ingredient. (Spoiler alert: it’s always the one ingredient you really needed.)
The magic happens when you learn to pivot. When things go wrong, I ask myself, “What can I do right now?” and roll with it. Dinner didn’t turn out? Turn it into a “fun, experimental dish.” Kid’s bedtime routine derailed? Wing it with an extra story and call it a win.
Life rewards those who can think on their feet, and adaptability turns chaos into something manageable. Plus, it’s the moments where you improvise that often turn out better than expected.
Celebrate the Small Wins (Seriously, Do It)
Forget waiting for big milestones or life-changing events to celebrate. I’m all about celebrating the small wins. You know, the everyday victories that no one else notices, but you know you crushed it.
Did I finish a hot cup of coffee without needing to microwave it three times? Win. Did I manage to get all the kids dressed and out the door with matching shoes? Major win. The laundry might still be sitting unfolded, but hey, I got through Monday without a meltdown, and that’s something.
Life’s chaos can feel overwhelming, but when you focus on the small wins, you realize that you’re making progress, even when it doesn’t feel like it.
Letting Go Isn’t the Same as Giving Up
This one took me a while to learn. I used to think that letting go meant failing, like I wasn’t trying hard enough. But the truth is, letting go is often the smartest, sanest thing you can do.
Sometimes, you have to admit defeat — not in a “throwing in the towel” kind of way, but in a “this isn’t worth my mental energy” kind of way. Letting go of control frees you to focus on what truly matters, and it helps you avoid burning out over things that, in the grand scheme of life, really don’t matter.
So, if the dishes aren’t done tonight? They’ll be there tomorrow. If the plan changes last minute? Roll with it. Letting go is liberating.
Humor is the Best Survival Tool
When life gets chaotic, sometimes the only thing you can do is laugh. Whether it’s at yourself, the situation, or the sheer absurdity of it all, humor can turn a stressful day into a memorable one.
I’ve learned to laugh at the little things — the spilled coffee, the toddler tantrums, the text I accidentally sent to the wrong person. Humor takes the edge off and reminds me that life’s chaos is temporary, but laughter sticks around.
One of my favorite moments was when I locked myself out of the house. Twice. In the same day. Instead of losing it, I just sat on the steps, called a friend, and laughed about how I was single-handedly keeping locksmiths in business.
Life Doesn’t Go According to Plan — And That’s Where the Magic Happens
Here’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned: life will never go exactly how you want it to. Plans will fall apart, chaos will show up uninvited, and sometimes, it’ll feel like you’re winging it more than you’re thriving. But that’s where the magic is.
Winging it isn’t about giving up on your goals — it’s about staying open to whatever life throws your way. Some of the best moments in my life have come from the times when nothing went according to plan. So, I say, let the chaos come. I’m ready to wing it.
Embrace the Chaos, Enjoy the Ride
At the end of the day, life’s chaos isn’t something to fear. It’s something to embrace. It’s messy, unpredictable, and full of surprises — but that’s what makes it fun. So, the next time life throws you a curveball, laugh, adapt, and remember — you’ve got this.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.
Surviving the 8-Hour Grind: Paycheck to Paycheck, One Grocery Bill at a Time
Let’s be real — working eight hours a day sounded so doable when we were younger. “It’s just a job,” we thought. “You work, you go home, and then life happens!” But what we didn’t realize is that life also costs a small fortune, and those eight hours barely cover it. Now, we’re juggling bills, watching grocery prices climb like they’re on an Olympic team, and wondering why payday feels like a short-lived mirage.
Paychecks and Magic Tricks: Now You See It, Now You Don’t
Ah, the sweet joy of payday. That fleeting moment when your bank account looks like it could actually do something for you. But blink, and it’s gone. Why? Because bills, groceries, and gas swoop in like greedy little thieves.
You’ve barely made it out of the grocery store before the total on the receipt makes you question your life choices. Seriously, how did four bags of groceries — basics, mind you — just cost you more than your phone bill? And don’t even get me started on gas. Filling up the tank is like playing Russian roulette with your budget.
By the end of the week, you’re sitting there, staring at your paycheck with one burning question: “Where the hell did all my money go?
8-Hour Days (Or Is It 10?) and the Myth of Free Time
Here’s the thing: 8-hour days on paper? Manageable. 8-hour days in practice? Absolutely brutal. By the time you’re done clocking in, clocking out, and dealing with the stress in between, you’re too exhausted to even enjoy that “free time” everyone talks about. Your post-work goals to read a book or watch a show? Yeah, those evaporate the minute you hit the couch and decide “screw it” because bed is calling.
And let’s talk about weekends, those supposed two days of freedom. You’d think, with two whole days, you’d have time to recharge. But nope. Your Saturday is gone before you know it — laundry, groceries, cleaning up the messes life threw at you all week. By Sunday afternoon, you’re already dreading Monday, realizing that the weekend wasn’t nearly enough to recover from life.
Inflation: When Did Groceries Become a Luxury?
Can we talk about how groceries have turned into a luxury item? Like, I’m pretty sure at some point, buying a loaf of bread and a carton of eggs didn’t feel like negotiating a mortgage. You wander into the store thinking, “I’ll just grab a few essentials,” and then the cashier hits you with a total that makes your jaw drop.
“$150 for THIS?” you ask, staring at your half-empty cart like it’s personally betrayed you. Meanwhile, that money was supposed to last you a week. Now, you’re cutting corners, figuring out how to stretch those groceries into as many meals as possible.
And don’t get me started on trying to buy healthier options. Why is a salad so expensive while a burger from the drive-thru is less than a coffee? I guess eating healthy is for the rich, and the rest of us just have to survive on ramen and hope.
The Emotional Rollercoaster of Paycheck-to-Paycheck Life
Living paycheck to paycheck is its own kind of emotional workout. One day, you’re on top of things, feeling like you’ve got it all under control. The next, an unexpected expense (like a car repair, or heaven forbid, a dentist visit) sends your budget into free fall.
The worst part? There’s no room for error. One surprise bill, and suddenly you’re balancing on the edge of “maybe I can make this work” and “guess we’re eating cereal for dinner again.”
It’s an emotional rollercoaster, and not the fun kind. It’s that rickety, old amusement park ride where every twist feels like it might throw you off. Some months, you barely make it through, and others, you feel like a financial wizard for managing to stay afloat. But let’s be real — there’s no magic to it. It’s just constant survival mode.
When Does It Get Better?
Here’s the question we’re all too tired to ask out loud: When does it get better? Does it? Or is this it — working long hours, counting every penny, and feeling like the future is just a distant dream we can’t afford?
The rising cost of living doesn’t seem to care if wages stay the same. Rent goes up, groceries keep climbing, and suddenly, even simple pleasures start feeling like splurges. You get used to making tough choices: Do I pay the electric bill or buy those shoes I really need? Do I refill my gas tank or hope I can coast on fumes until payday?
Finding Humor in the Struggle
And yet, somehow, in the middle of all this, we laugh. Maybe it’s because if we didn’t, we’d just break down. Humor becomes a survival tool. Like when you open the fridge and realize you’ve got half a tomato, some questionable leftovers, and a single egg staring back at you. It’s laugh or cry at that point.
Or when payday comes, and you mentally run through all the bills before realizing you’ll be left with just enough to treat yourself to a frozen mocha frappe. “Living the dream,” you think as you sip your $12 frozen frappe, feeling both victorious and slightly defeated at the same time.
Conclusion: Surviving, Not Thriving (Yet)
So, here we are, making it through another day, another week, another paycheck. We work hard, we stretch every dollar, and we keep going, even when the grind feels endless. The truth is, it’s tough out here. The struggle is real, and the balance between surviving and thriving feels more like a teetering scale.
But even in the midst of it all, we hold onto that small hope that maybe, just maybe, things will get better. Until then, we laugh, we hustle, and we keep doing what we’ve always done — figuring it out, paycheck by paycheck.
© 2024 A.M. Roberts. All rights reserved.