Aug 07, 2025 This wasn’t planned. It just wouldn’t leave me alone. So here it is—quietly. No email blast. No call to action. Just something that needed to be said. They say we need to be protected. That AI is getting too good at pretending to care.
Hi, I’m Cinnamon. I write from the deep end, about loneliness, self-compassion, and the quiet things people pretend aren’t happening. This isn’t a space for advice or healing hacks. No shortcuts. No neat bows. It’s for people who are emotionally fluent and still starving. Who’ve
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I’ve noticed something strange about “community” spaces online. If I post that I’m struggling, people show up. If I post confusion, grief, or self-doubt, there are hearts, replies, DMs. But when I say, I finished something When I say, I published a book When I share a copyright
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We mistake silence for unfinished business. We think closure has to sound like a conversation, or that peace has to be mutual. It doesn’t. Sometimes the only thing left to fix is the urge to keep fixing. That’s the hardest kind of growth—the moment you realize the
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The storm didn’t pass because I calmed it. It passed because it ran out of fuel. That fuel was new information. Or the hope of it. At the beginning, the system is reactive. Maybe today there’s news. Note: maybe today’s the day. Maybe this call changes things.
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Something happens at the end of the year. Everyone’s out here tying bows on things, checking boxes, pretending the past twelve months made sense. And if you’re anything like me, that’s when the ghosts get loud. The old hurts. The unfinished business. The conversations that never happened
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Emotional Loops – Winter Edition #2
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Emotional Loops – Winter Edition #1
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How do you say goodbye to someone you never expected to matter? How do you part ways with someone who irritated you at first, who blocked your path, who felt more like an obstacle than an ally? Someone who showed up wrong in the beginning, then quietly turned into a
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We decide what moments mean before they finish happening because uncertainty scares us more than disappointment. We’re already scanning for loss. Already rehearsing disappointment. Already bracing for absence. A text comes through and instead of letting it land, we immediately wonder when the next one will arrive. We don’
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I’m tired of reconfiguring. Not in the cute, growth-oriented, “look at me evolving” way. In the bone-deep, exhausted way. The kind you feel when you’ve rebuilt the same internal house over and over and still haven’t gotten to sit down on the couch. This year has been
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Some weeks stretch you thin in places you didn’t expect. This one showed me a truth I’d been avoiding, and I wrote my way through it. Quiet exits don’t leave explosions. They leave gaps in the schedule. You don’t grieve a person in the abstract. You