I traced the lines of your voice
in the dark
learning the map of your thoughts
without touching
and in that silence
I understood intimacy
is not just skin and breath
but the slow revelation
of what it means
to trust someone
with your quietest pieces
Tag Archives: thecreativechic
Shine your light
In a world heavy with shadows, where fear and anger seem louder than anything else, it is easy to feel small, to think your light could never matter. But even the tiniest flame can push back the dark. Being a light does not mean you are unbroken or that you never feel the weight of the night; it means you choose, again and again, to shine anyway. A kind word, a patient gesture, a smile offered when no one is watching, these are sparks, and sparks can grow, quietly, steadily, until they touch more than you ever imagined. Light spreads not because it is grand, but because it refuses to be silent. It reminds the world that darkness is never absolute, that hope can exist even in the corners that feel most lost. When everything seems heavy, when despair whispers that nothing can change, you can plant your small flame, let it tremble and flicker, and trust that even the smallest glow can guide someone home. To be a light is to show up, to speak your truth, to offer warmth in a cold place, to keep shining when it feels impossible. It is a quiet rebellion, a gentle courage, a reminder that even in the blackest night, one spark can ripple across the world and remind us all that hope has not vanished.
The shape of quiet
I close my eyes and drown out
the sound of goodbye
pretending silence
is kinder than the truth
I tell myself this ache
will soften with time
that absence
is just another word for rest
but the quiet keeps your shape
lingers where your laughter used to be
and every unspoken thing still hums
a low tide pulling at my ribs
asking me to remember
what I’m trying to release
Happy New Year
As I stand on the edge of this brand-new year, I find myself overwhelmed by a beautiful sense of possibility. Looking back on 2025, I’m filled with so much gratitude for the moments that challenged me, the laughter that kept me going, and the quiet growth that happened when I wasn’t even looking. Whether my year felt like a whirlwind of excitement or a steady, quiet climb, I’m taking a moment to be proud of simply making it here, and I hope you are doing the same.
As I step into 2026, my wish for both of us is simple: I hope our days are filled with more “real” moments and fewer “busy” ones. I want to find the courage to chase the things that make my heart beat a little faster, the patience to be kind to myself on the hard days, and the joy that comes from the smallest, simplest things. To me, this new year isn’t about “fixing” who I am; it’s about celebrating the person I’ve become and embracing the adventures that haven’t even started yet.
Thank you for being such a special part of my journey. I’m so excited to share this next chapter with you. Here’s to a year of health, happiness, and beautiful new beginnings for us all.
Happy New Year!
Much love,
Jennifer ❤️
Last light
the sun slips between
the ribs of the pier
a small burning secret
the ocean agrees to keep
wood remembers every tide
that touched it
every weight it held
without complaint
the light lingers
just long enough to say goodbye
as the water swallows
the last light
pretending it doesn’t hurt
Merry Christmas
As the year draws to a close, Christmas arrives with its familiar sense of warmth, reflection, and togetherness. It’s a time to pause, breathe, and appreciate the moments, big and small, that make life meaningful.
Whether you’re celebrating surrounded by family, spending time with friends, or enjoying some quiet moments of rest, Christmas is a reminder of kindness, generosity, and hope. It’s a season that encourages us to look back with gratitude for what we’ve learned this year and to look ahead with optimism for what’s to come.
May your days be filled with laughter, comfort, and joy. May your homes feel warm, your hearts feel full, and your celebrations, whatever they look like, bring you peace and happiness.
Thank you for being here and for being part of this journey throughout the year. Wishing you and your loved ones a very Merry Christmas and a hopeful, joyful season ahead. 🎄✨
Always ♥️
Jennifer
I’m right here
The holidays are supposed to sparkle. They’re wrapped in lights and music and expectations that say this should be the happiest time of the year. But for so many people, this season feels heavier instead of brighter.
Grief gets louder. Loneliness settles in. Old memories knock when you’re already tired. Mental health doesn’t take a holiday break just because the calendar says it’s time to celebrate.
If this season feels harder for you, I want you to know something simple and true: I’m here if you need me.
I’m here on the days when getting out of bed feels like an accomplishment.
I’m here when the silence is too loud or the noise is too much. I’m here when you don’t have the words, or when you have too many and don’t know where to put them.
You don’t have to explain why you’re struggling. You don’t have to compare your pain to anyone else’s. And you definitely don’t have to pretend you’re okay just to make others more comfortable.
Sometimes being “here” looks like a conversation. Sometimes it looks like sitting quietly beside someone. Sometimes it’s a text that just says, “I’m thinking of you.”
And if you’re the one reading this thinking, I wish someone would say that to me this is me saying it. You matter. Your feelings matter. Your presence in this world matters, even on days when it doesn’t feel like it.
The holidays can amplify everything we try to tuck away the rest of the year. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.
So if you need a safe place to land, I’m here. If you need someone to listen, I’m here. If all you can do today is survive, that is more than enough and I’m still here.
You don’t have to carry this season alone. Email me, text me, call me. If you need that information, head over to my about me page 🤍
Love,
Jennifer ❤️
Absence
I miss you in the quiet moments
when the world slows
just enough
for your absence to echo
I miss your laugh
tucked between my thoughts
your voice folded into the silence
like a secret waiting to be told
the days stretch long
without your light
and even the sun
seems unsure of where to shine
but I carry your memory
like a song I hum
without meaning to
soft and familiar
aching and true
True beauty
For all my beautiful ladies here
You’re beautiful, not in the loud, borrowed ways the world often applauds, but in the kind that settles into a room and makes everything feel more honest. This beauty belongs to all of you. It lives in how you listen, fully, patiently, as if every voice matters. It’s in your laughter, unexpected and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds you’ve learned how to carry.
Your beauty shows up in small, powerful moments: in the pauses before you speak, in the softness you protect without surrendering your strength, in the grace with which you move through ordinary days that demand more than they show. You don’t chase recognition, yet you are remarkable. Effortless. Grounded. Unmistakable.
You are beautiful in your kindness, in the way you leave people and places better than you found them. Beautiful in your flaws, too, the ones shaped by survival, growth, and truth. This is a beauty that doesn’t dim when the lights fade, because it was never created for the stage.
And maybe that’s the truest thing about your beauty: it lingers. In the lives you’ve touched. In the strength you pass on. In the quiet proof that resilience can be gentle, and power can be beautiful.
Stay beautiful, my lovely ladies. This world is much better with you ALL in it.
Jennifer ❤️🌻🌞♥️
Human (audio)
I carry the people I’ve loved like small constellations under my skin, some still burning, some already gone dark, yet all of them shaping how I walk through night.
There are mornings when grief doesn’t knock. It simply sits beside me, drinks my coffee, and reminds me that love was never meant to be light.
I have learned that the heart is not a place of safety. It is a place of weather. Storms arrive without permission, and sometimes the bravest thing is to stand still and let the storms pass through you.
If you listen closely, you can hear the past breathing in old songs, in the way certain names still soften your voice, in the silence that follows when you almost say I miss you out loud.
But even here, especially here, there is a quiet miracle happening.
Because every day you wake up with tenderness intact. You choose not to turn to stone. You keep your hands open in a world that has proven it can take everything.
And that, that is not weakness. That is devotion to being human all the way through.
The Creative Chic 