10.3.25 // 2 Years in Seattle

It’s wild to think that not long ago, I celebrated two years of living in Seattle.
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The time has flown in a way that words can barely catch. It feels like trying to cup summer in your hands — holding onto the warmth that brushes your cheeks, the long shadows that stretch across sidewalks, the steady hum of crickets. As if, if you just hold on tight enough, you can keep the season from slipping or the clock from ticking.
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But time moving forward doesn’t feel wrong. If anything, marking two years felt like a new kind of significance.
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For the first time since I moved here, I feel the ground beneath my feet. A sense of confidence and enthusiasm is returning to the place I now call home.
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For years, I was used to being on the move — new horizons filling my vision. And truthfully, I still crave that change often. But now it feels less like a constant need and more like a rhythm, a cadence that soothes my wandering heart.
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There’s a stability here that scares the hell out of me — not because it’s wrong, but because it’s so unfamiliar. Year two is the year I chose Seattle. And slowly, she’s beginning to feel like mine.
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It’s been years since I’ve prioritized the heartbeat of my own city, the soul of a community around me, the joy of holding hands with a place that feels familiar.
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I don’t know what year three or the years after will bring. But pausing to celebrate these markers feels like trying to catch summer in my palms — a way of slowing the clock, if only for a moment.