My Raw Unscripted Life

Hope is your heart
recognizing possibility,
not promising outcome.

You get hopeful because
your heart is open, not closed.
Because you are wired for connection,
not isolation.
Because you are sensing potential,
not signing a contract with the future.

Hope arrives before discernment
the way dawn comes
before the full day—
soft, pink, unfinished.
It isn’t asking you to commit.
It’s only asking you to notice.

The pain did not come from hope.
The pain came from
attaching hope to certainty
too quickly,
asking a beginning
to behave like an ending.

Why does hope return
even when you are tired?

Because your heart is alive.

A shut-down heart
doesn’t hope—
it goes numb.
And you are not numb.
You are tender.
You are awake.

Hope keeps showing up because
you are healing, not hardened.
Because you are learning
to feel without gripping.
Because your system is gently asking,
Is it safe to be open now?

This is not repetition.
This is integration.