After the Rain: Blooming Anyway

This morning, I stepped outside with my coffee (because that's how I truly survive), fully expecting my garden to look like it had survived a small monsoon.
Instead?
Those flowers were standing taller than me after two espresso shots.
They weren’t just alive, they were thriving.

Meanwhile, I’m out here barely keeping my cardigan on one shoulder and wondering if I looked that good after my last emotional thunderstorm.

But seriously…
I saw something in them that hit different.

They didn’t just survive the rain.
They needed it.

And maybe…
maybe that’s me too.

There are days I am the storm, loud, messy, unpredictable.
And there are days I’m the dirt, just trying to keep everything together while the world dumps on me.
But then there are days like today,
where I feel the sun on my face, take a deep breath, and think,
“Okay, maybe I’m not a disaster. Maybe I’m just... in bloom.”

I’m learning that growth doesn’t always feel gentle.
Sometimes it looks like a crying session at 2am and a sweater that smells like coffee and stubbornness.
Sometimes it means letting yourself fall apart, just to prove you can build yourself again.

And yeah… I know another storm will come.
Because life doesn’t stop tossing curveballs just because you posted a cute selfie and remembered to drink water.
But I also know this:

The storm never has the final word.

I might wilt.
I might cry.
I might forget to water my own roots sometimes…
but I will rise.
Maybe a little muddy. Maybe with messy hair and a late coffee in hand.
But I will stand tall.
And I will bloom again.

Even if I trip over the damn hose while doing it.

So if today feels like a mess,
if your petals are droopy and your heart’s a little soggy,
just remember—
You’ve bloomed before.
And you will again.