Toilet seat imprints, glass doors, wardrobe malfunctions, and an unfortunate encounter with a CrossFit resistance band. A lifetime of embarrassing moments, a little public humiliation, and a Thanksgiving reminder that sometimes the people who laughed with us are the ones we miss the most.
A reflection on childhood hiding places, favourite trees, shifting perspective, and the kind of safety we spend years trying to find our way back to. Sometimes growing doesn’t look like becoming more. Sometimes it looks like remembering where you once felt safe enough to simply be.
What happens when the version of yourself built on pushing, adapting, and reading the room starts to fall apart? Anita 3.0 is still buffering, somewhere between who I was and whoever comes next.
