There is a specific, quiet magic that happens when you press pause on your “real life” and step into someone else’s rhythm. In January of 2025—coded in my journal simply as v202501 —I did exactly that. I spent an entire month living with my sister.
At first, it sounded insane. A month is a long time to crash on someone’s couch (or in her case, her guest room that doubled as a WFH office). But the more we talked, the more it made sense. I needed a change of scenery. She needed company. And somewhere deep down, we both needed to remember that we actually like each other as people, not just as family. spending a month with my sister v202501 ya best
Then she handed me a small folded note. Inside, in her messy handwriting, it said: “v202501. Spending a month with you reminded me that family isn’t about blood. It’s about who stays. Who shows up. Who loads the dishwasher wrong and still loves you anyway. You are, and have always been, ya best.” I ugly-cried. She ugly-cried. The pancakes got cold. There is a specific, quiet magic that happens
And when they do something that drives you absolutely crazy, just smile and whisper to yourself: At first, it sounded insane