Gut instincts, alignment, and finding what feeds you.
They ask me if I’ll regret my decision to move across the globe.
They swallow my answers, desperate to feed on any flicker of fear or insecurity in my choice.
They want to chew on my worries to satisfy their minds — to fuel their suspicions, to fill the empty pit of dissatisfaction they carry.
But they leave hungry.
I offer no meal. No substance. Nothing to satisfy their hunger.
Instead, I serve absolute certainty. I offer platefuls of confidence and security, knowing that the path I’m taking is one that was determined for me long before they ever realised they were hungry.
I tell them that I trust the universe. That I listened to the calling — the deep internal pulling I had ignored, disguised, and tried to starve.
There is nothing I can do to prove this yearning; it is entirely internal. It lights up my veins as it moves through me.
I am no longer hungry. No longer thirsty. No longer craving to be fed.
I am filled purely by the sensation of being alive. Present. Aligned with my path.
They watch on… plates still empty. Still waiting. Still hoping I will declare a feast.
Desperately praying that I will return with a hungry heart and a tail between my legs — admitting I was wrong, agreeing it was naïve to be so optimistic.
But I know that is not my path.
The moment I stepped off the plane, I was no longer hungry. No longer empty. No longer praying to feel satisfied.
Instead, I am fueled by ambition, alignment, and passion.
I used to be hungry — until I chose to be fed.
