Hey you,

Yes, you, reading this right now.

It’s me—Butter. And I know it’s been a while. Too long, actually. And trust me, it wasn’t my intention to vanish like a magician mid-act. But sometimes life gets so heavy, even breathing feels like effort. I didn’t ditch you, I just… broke a little. Quietly.

A lot has happened. The kind of “lot” that makes you question everything.

I Took a Stand… and Everything Changed

You know, when you imagine standing up for something important, you think there’ll be claps. Maybe a slow-motion background score. People thanking you for being brave.

Well—no music played. No applause. Just silence. Cold, echoing silence.

I stood up against something no one wanted to talk about—gender-based harassment. Not against a stranger, not some anonymous villain. But against a friend of my best friend.

Let that sink in.

Do you know how hard it is to choose truth when it comes wrapped in the face of someone your loved ones trust? When you know the price won’t be just discomfort—it’ll be heartbreak?

I spoke up. I didn’t whisper. I spoke up. And slowly, I saw people I loved turn away, as if my voice had burned their comfort.

I wasn’t trying to destroy anyone’s world. I was trying to protect mine. But somehow, that made me the villain in theirs.

Then Came the Unraveling…

While I was still nursing that emotional bruise, the second wave hit. At work.

Financial scams.

Hospital billing loopholes.

Purchasing irregularities.

You name it. I found it. Or rather—it found me.

I didn’t plan to be the whistleblower. I was just doing my job. But suddenly I was knee-deep in dirt I didn’t create, holding up the mirror while others looked away.

And let me tell you—when you try to clean a system that’s grown used to the mess, it fights you. It claws back. It tries to break you.

Worse? It isolates you.

People I thought were my anchors disappeared.

Some didn’t even say goodbye.

And among them… was my best friend.

He didn’t agree. Or maybe he couldn’t. Maybe he wasn’t ready to accept that someone close to him could be the problem. I get it. I really do. But it still broke me.

Alone, but Not Abandoned

In the middle of all this chaos, grief, and gut-wrenching loneliness… I clung to faith.

There’s something about pain that peels you open. You start to notice the quiet blessings. The people who smile at you without agenda. The ones who text, “Just checking in”, even when you haven’t replied in days.

New people entered my life. With fresh eyes. With open arms. With no idea of the war I’d just walked out of—but somehow, they made space for me anyway.

God showed up—in the kind stranger, the new colleague, the little unexpected laugh when I hadn’t smiled in weeks.

Life Teaches, But It Doesn’t Pamper

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how people come and go in life. How sometimes, the ones you thought were permanent end up just being chapters—not the whole story. And maybe that’s okay.

Maybe we’re not meant to keep everyone forever. Maybe we’re just meant to love them while we have them.

And when it’s time to part—whether in anger or silence or just inevitable drift—we grieve, we bless, and we keep walking.

Because that’s life, isn’t it? A long walk with unexpected exits and even more unexpected entries.

So Here I Am

A little worn.

A little wiser.

Not the same person I was when I last wrote to you—but someone still worth knowing, I hope.

And if you’re going through something similar—if you’ve lost friendships over truth, or stood alone in the name of what’s right—I want you to know this: you are not alone.

It hurts. Yes.

But it heals too. Eventually.

And someday, you’ll look back and realize: you didn’t lose yourself.

You found yourself.

With love (and a heart stitched back with golden thread),

Butter