I changed | From Crying To Cosmic Eyeliner

I went out for a walk today.

Didn’t expect a glow-up.

No playlist. No plan.

Just me, the wind, and some feelings that have been in storage since, like, age 9.

And then it hit me:

A little hill, near a school, with no one around.

Perfect place to unravel.

So I sat down. And cried.

Not “I stubbed my toe” crying.

Soul cry. Healing cry. Cinematic but no camera.

I forgave myself.

For the times I didn’t speak up.

For not knowing how to protect myself.

For thinking silence was safety.

Then I did something weird (and powerful):

I thanked myself.

“You did what you had to do to survive. Thank you.”

And I made a promise:

“From now on, I’ve got your back. No more self-abandonment. No more shrinking.”

Yes, I said it out loud.

Yes, there were actual tears.

Yes, the hill probably thinks I'm a wizard.

I got home. Looked in the mirror.

And there they were:

Limbus rings.

Dark, radiant halos around my irises.

Like the universe drew eyeliner on my soul.

I even had my eye photographed at the Iris Gallery in York.

Now it looks like a sun exploded inside my eyeball in the best way.

Here is a photo of my right eye.

Biologically?

Sharp borders of the iris that suggest vitality, youth, strong contrast, health, attractiveness. Whatever.

Spiritually?

A rebirth.

A soul checkpoint.

A personal “you leveled up” graphic from the cosmos.

This was today.

I left the house ringless.

Came back with galactic jewelry in my eyes.

Moral of the story?

Cry in public. Forgive and thank your past self.

Speak to the wind like it’s listening.

And check the mirror after, you might be glowing.