I told you last week how I was going back in time on my annual (non) holiday to visit family.
Well… I came back again. A second round.
My dad had an operation, and I thought I had to be there (and I also wanted to).
That complicated blend of duty and love.
So there I went again, wearing my invisible armour.
You know the one, the sacred shield you craft over the years to protect your peace and energy from the places that caused your deepest wounds.
Maybe you're rolling your eyes, or maybe you're lucky and come from the most balanced and functional family in human history.
I don’t.
And don’t get me wrong here - I love them to bits. That’s exactly why it hurts so much.
I’ve cried oceans over them. Over their choices, their pain, the weight of generational stories they don’t even know they’re carrying.
But this last visit was… different.
This time I saw what was once invisible.
I didn’t just cry… I understood why I was crying.
And that shift in awareness? That changed everything.
Because I realised:
Tears aren’t just sadness.
They’re seeds.
Let’s Talk About Crying
Not the polite, cinematic tear that slides down one cheek.
I’m talking about the kind that guts you. The kind that catches you mid-flight with no tissues, so you end up blowing your nose with your t-shirt.
(True story 🙄)
There’s this stupid (and so damaging!) saying:
“Men don’t cry.”
And I want you to know: those tears? They’re not weakness.
They are water. They are salt. They are sacred.
They are the beginning of something new.
Because what do seeds need?
Darkness. Moisture. Time.
Exactly what your pain gives you… if you let it.
Don’t Judge Your Life by a Single Scene
We’re so quick to judge our lives by the scene we’re stuck in:
The failed relationship.
The diagnosis.
The heartbreak.
The alienation.
But your life is not one moment.
It’s not one summer visit to your dysfunctional family.
It’s a whole damn epic.
And you, and I, and he, and she… we’re still in the middle of it.
Pain isn’t a glitch in the storyline.
It is the storyline.
Tears are not detours, they’re part of the path.
Pain Is a Wake-Up Call
I used to think pain was punishment.
Now I see it as information.
It tells you what needs attention. What isn’t aligned.
It whispers at first… and then it screams:
“Hey. This hurts for a reason. Look closer.”
And when you look closer, the questions begin.
But pay attention to how you ask them.
There’s a dangerous kind of “why” that leaves you stuck:
Why me?
Why did this happen?
Why can’t they change?
But then there’s the holy kind:
Why am I here?
What is this pain revealing to me?
What can grow from this?
That’s the why that transforms.
The why that turns tears into compost.
You don’t need a clean answer.
You just need a reason to keep walking.
The Journey Is the Point
We all want the promised land. I get it.
Love. Safety. Peace. A loving partner.
But you can’t skip the wilderness.
That’s where you become the person who can actually hold those things.
Unless… you’re not self-aware.
And friends, that is the case in my family tree 😪
When you don’t have a meaningful purpose (and I’m not talking about career or status), you just go through your day like an AI avatar programmed to “get by.”
When you don’t have a destination, you sleepwalk.
And one of the strangest things about getting older is this:
The people who were older when you were young are now dead, or they have Alzheimer’s, or they’ve become sleepwalkers too.
My hometown is full of them.
Not one of them ever sat with themselves.
Not one of them learned to set boundaries, not out of spite, but out of self-respect.
They don’t tolerate silence or self-inquiry.
They simply can’t do it. They’re too busy “being as expected” or “doing what they’ve always done.”
They are terrified of change.
Terrified of uncertainty.
And sadly, terrified of truth.
Let Your Tears Fall
So this is what I’ve come to learn through my family, my visits, my tears:
When you feel like crying, cry.
Don’t stuff it. Don’t dress it up.
Let it flood. Let it cleanse. Let it crack you open.
Because something wants to grow there.
Something deeper. Wiser. Softer. Stronger.
You’re not weak.
You’re watering the soil.
On a More Cheerful Note…
(Apologies for being a downer 😅)
But I won’t leave you like this. Let me tell you something funny.
(Well, I find it funny 🤭)
As many of you know, apart from writing and making videos full of mystical naked truths, I also have one of those platforms that society, corporations, and the moral gatekeepers love to demonise.
Yes, I’m talking about OnlyFans.
I mean, to some we’re illiterate hoes.
To others, the devil in disguise.
The ones corrupting men and ruining civilization.
You know… the usual 😈
We’re the outsiders. The rejected.
And yet, somehow, the industry has been/is/will be alive and booming.
Anyway, that was my little promotion, just in case you feel like seeing me naked and all that jazz 💃
Now, here's the thing:
What I always thought was a burden (my big booty 🍑) turns out to be my greatest asset.
And recently, I discovered that my favourite panties of all time are…
the ones my granny wore decades ago, before G-strings were even a thing.
(I f*cking hate G-strings, by the way.)
So, in the midst of tears, surgeries, and emotional chaos,
I found a tiny shop that sells the comfiest, 100% cotton granny panties for a few Euros.
Not only are they the comfiest I’ve ever worn…
They’ve helped grow my social platforms.
So yes, I’m officially a granny panty collector 🤭
There’s something poetic about it, don’t you think?
We’ve all had enough of the plastic perfection and polished illusions.
Maybe, just maybe…
Authenticity is sexy again.
I’m tired now, it’s late.
Trying to settle back into my own world.
But as I write this, I still feel that familiar ache in my stomach when I picture my loved ones, trapped in the little boxes they’ve crafted for themselves.
So here’s my invitation to you:
Sit in silence with yourself.
Ask a few questions.
Let the tears fall if they want to.
And hopefully, you’re one of the lucky ones.
With everything in green. Living a fulfilled, awakened life.
That’s what I wish for every single human being. 🪄
Love,
Rose 🌹