Blooming in Private
by Crissy Bliss Addams
I bled in public—
left trails of heartbreak in captions,
stitched sorrow into metaphors,
hoping someone would read between the scars
and call it healing.
I mistook visibility for closure,
confession for connection,
but pain, when paraded,
only deepens its roots.
Now, I bloom in private—
no spotlight, no spectacle.
Just quiet mornings,
soft rituals,
and the slow unfurling of peace.
Growth doesn’t need applause.
It needs soil,
stillness,
and the courage to be unseen.
