Do you also remember the little things no one else does?

The art of remembering.

Hey beautiful souls,
I hope your heart feels a little softer today. And if not, maybe this piece will wrap around you like your favorite blanket.

Isn’t it strange how we forget the big events sometimes, but the smallest details stay? Like the exact shade of sky from one random evening two years ago. Or the way someone said your name once, like it mattered.

We remember the sound of a certain ringtone that used to mean everything. The scent of a particular shampoo. The texture of an old bedsheet. The last sentence someone said before they became a memory.

And we don’t even try to remember. It just happens. In the middle of washing dishes, while crossing a street, or listening to a song we didn’t even know we still had saved.

That’s the thing about remembering, it doesn’t always ask permission.

It shows up in the smell of rain or the taste of something warm. It walks beside us when we pass an old place. It sometimes hits hardest when we think we’ve moved on.

And you know what? Sometimes remembering hurts. But sometimes it feels like home. Like our heart whispering, “You lived that. You felt that. That was real.”

We don’t talk enough about how beautiful and painful memories can be.
How it wraps around us like a hug we didn’t know we needed, or reopens a wound we thought had healed.

But that’s what makes us human.
We remember because we loved.
We remember because it mattered.

So if you’ve been caught off guard by a memory lately, don’t fight it.
Sit with it. Let it remind you of the soft, messy, real life you’ve lived.
Because forgetting protects us, yes. But remembering?
Remembering shapes us.