New Year, Same-ish Blog

This isn’t some new year, new me shit. I’m still very much not about that, and that’s not what’s happening here. And that's part of the reason I put off the "relaunch" until February.

The other part is because the last six months have been fucking hard.

I stepped back from the blog for a lot of reasons. Time and other commitments were a big part of it, but I was also trying to get something bigger in motion; something that felt more settled and intentional than what I had before.

I genuinely had some big plans. I was going to start my own website and host my own blogs (yes, plural). Launch a YouTube channel so I’d have a place for performance videos I could link into my music stuff outside of other “traditional” forms of social media. Apply to grad school and build myself a little escape route. Start a podcast. Write a novel. Start a band. And and and and and.

Basically, I was going to turn my breakdown into a brand launch. Mostly because I hate my job and my very old, wonderful cat was dying.

And not a single one of those things actually happened.

Except my cat died.

It was (is?) devastating.

Oh, and I did start applying to grad school. More on that, hopefully, later? IDK.

The reality is that I’m not a web designer, I’m barely a writer, and I don’t have the kind of free time I had in college to casually pick up new skills. Having a full-time job takes more out of a day than I ever expect it to, no matter how many times I relearn that lesson.

So we cope. We grieve. We recalibrate. We suffer through the unsufferable. Because let’s be real: what choice do we actually have? We watch the horrors persist daily, and so we persist as well.

Looking back, I suspect it probably looked like a manic episode to anyone with no experience with bipolar disorder. It wasn’t, and I’m not. Though, admittedly, this kind of coping is something I learned from being around (hi, Mom).

Some of the things I wanted to have fully figured out by 2026 didn’t quite get finished. They’re still marinating in my brainspace waiting for their chance to be fully cooked. 

Still, I wanted to keep the blog. Writing here gives me a sense of balance and calm that I don’t find in many other places. It’s where I come back to think slowly and honestly, without an agenda.

The point is: this isn’t a new blog.

It’s just in a new-ish place.

What’s Staying the Same

What hasn’t changed is me. At least not in the ways that matter.

The core themes are still here: writing about culture, about power, about softness as a form of resistance. The things that made me start this in the first place, and the things that keep pulling me back to it.

Soft Rebellions will mostly remain what it has always been: a whirlwind of stream-of-consciousness, barely coherent nonsense where I remind myself that healing is a motherfucking process and that it certainly isn’t linear.

It’s still a place where I can talk about yoga, trauma, therapy, and my personal feelings about the shortcomings of social norms in a sometimes vulgar and always vulnerable way. A place where my feelings are valid and processed in the way that makes the most sense to me.

I’m still treating writing as a practice, not a product. Not a content mill. I’m still finding my voice. Still leaving myself small reminders so I actually show up, even when it feels easier not to.

If it resonates with anyone else while they’re in their own messy little process, that’s cool too as I untangle the webs in my brain and try to learn how to feel things instead of melting my consciousness straight into the void, as I am accustomed to.

I’m showing up for myself.
For my mental health.
For the work, even when it’s imperfect.

What’s Going to Be Different

I actually haven’t decided yet.

I’ve thought about starting that second blog, like I mentioned. I’ve thought about changing the days and times I post. Maybe it’ll be twice a week. Maybe not. I genuinely don’t know. It would be nice to have the separation between the academic and literary vs. the chaotic hellscape that is me trying to navigate thoughts, feelings and the collapse of society.

But also that would require me to have, like, a “business plan” and I’m kind of just going for it, especially since the whole “learn to make a website” thing turned out to be a little overconfident. And who actually has time for more self imposed deadlines?

What I do know is this: this isn’t a rebrand. If anything, it’s approaching this with a little more clarity. More space for the things I care about to breathe, and less pressure to force everything into the same container.

Stepping away last year helped me understand how I actually want to write (and that I generally also do want to write). That pause mattered, and more of that energy is coming with me into 2026.

I’m writing with more intention than I used to. Not to optimize or perform, but to be clearer about what belongs where.

This is an archive.

Not a stage.

Still with me?

Good.

Looking Forward

This is a continuation, not a correction. A soft rebellion, not a soft reset.

I just want to write. I want a space where I can talk without feeling like anyone is obligated to listen to a word I say. A place where no one paying attention doesn’t take away from the fact that I still deserve the space to say it.

I’m staying curious. Letting things unfold without forcing them to resolve too quickly. Learning how to rebuild neural pathways and restructure my routines in ways that actually support me, rather than exhaust me.

I’m taking deep breaths. Slowing down enough to notice when I’m chasing perfection instead of progress. Reminding myself, over and over, that done is better than perfect.

I’m committing to the things that feel steady and sustaining. The things that feel good for my mind, my body, and my spirit. The things that make it easier to keep showing up.

And I’m not letting anyone take that away from me.