Author: Harper Leigh
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The Flower
There was a time I closed. Not all at oncebut quietlythe way a flower folds in on itselfwhen the night air turns coldwhen the frost settles without warning. Petal by petalI drew inward. Not because I was fragileBecause I knew how to survive. The cold does not ask permission.It arrivesand the body responds. Closing was…
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When “I Need Space” Is Your Nervous System, Not Your Preference.
When “I just need space” is your nervous system, not your preference Some people genuinely enjoy time alone. And then there are people whose nervous system feels safest there. From the outside, they can look the same. IndependentSelf containedNot overly emotionalNot needing constant contact Often, even admired for it. But inside a relationship, something different…
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The Pause
My ending is your pause My closure is your maybe Two opposing nervous systems colliding I lean in You lean out I seek clarity You seek ambiguity Two systems trying to stay safe in very different ways Neither wrong Just opposing A dance around the fire pit Never quite meeting
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What If It Is Not Their Personality
Daily prompt: What’s something most people don’t understand? Most people think they are dealing with personalities, attitudes, or choices. They are not. They are dealing with nervous systems. Every interaction you have, at work, in relationships, in conflict, in joy, is shaped by the state of your nervous system and the state of the person…
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Sitting With Difficult Feelings
WordPress Prompt: What strategies do you use to cope with negative feelings? Negative feelings are part of being human. Over time I have learned that sometimes the most helpful thing to do is simply let them sit there for a while and allow them to pass through me. It is ok to feel. When the…
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The Shape of Disappointment
There is often a moment before disappointment arrives. A quiet knowing that sits somewhere underneath hope. A small part of the mind already senses how the story may end, yet another part still leaves the door slightly open. Perhaps this time will be different. Plans are spoken about easily enough. The suggestion of time together…
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When someone pulls away.
One of the most confusing moments in relationships is when someone who once felt close suddenly becomes distant. Messages slow down. Conversations feel different. The warmth that once felt easy becomes harder to reach. For the person on the receiving end it can feel personal. Something must have changed. Something must be wrong. But what…
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The Keeper
The room had grown quiet again. Not empty.Just settled in the way a room becomes when it is no longer waiting. For a long time, she had left the door slightly open. Not wide. Just enough that someone might return if they wished to. The kind of opening that belongs to hope. But hope can…
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Almost
Detachment did not arrive all at once. It came in pauses.In moments where her hand no longer reached for the phone, then hovered, then rested.In the absence of urgency rather than the presence of certainty. She noticed she no longer needed to check.Not because she was free.But because the need had softened. There was a…
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The Departure
The invitation came wrapped as a question. “You’re invited,” he said.“But aren’t you working Monday?” It was offered on days he already knew I could not go. I recognised it instantly. I wasn’t invited. My stomach dropped.The door widened. I said it gently.How it landed for me.That I would rather honesty than something half-held.An invitation…
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The Gate
During our time together, there was a gate. I never went past it. I was never invited inside.He would stand there waiting, beside it, every time. At first, it felt practical.Later, it became familiar.Eventually, I understood it as something else. It was a physical boundary I was not meant to cross.And quietly, it was an…
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Containment.
They both brought boxes. Hers was open. Not overflowing.Not chaotic.Just open enough to show there was something inside. You could see it had been tended to.Sorted.Considered. When something landed between them, she didn’t throw it back. She placed it in the box. “Let me sit with that for a second,” she would say, steady. Her…
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The Ambiguous Ghost
The ghost is not fully formed. The possibility of it is there. I sense it before I see anything. Not a presence exactly. More of a shift. The room feels slightly less empty than it should. The light holds longer in the corners. The air pauses, as if waiting to be noticed. When I look,…
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Ambiguity
WordPress Daily Prompt – What Bores You? Ambiguity bores me when it is used as a shield rather than a reflection. It often shows up dressed as depth or flexibility, but underneath it is a reluctance to choose, to name, or to be accountable. There is a place for ambiguity. Not everything is ready to…
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Learning as I Go (with snacks)
If there were a biography about you, what would the title be? Daily Prompt I have learned many things the hard way and a few things the joyful way. Mostly, I am still learning. About people. About myself. About when to pause, when to speak, and when to quietly sit with a cup of tea…
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Attachment Styles in the Workplace
Why Behaviour Under Pressure Is Not About Attitude In workplaces, we often interpret behaviour through the lens of motivation, professionalism, or commitment. Someone disengages, overreacts, avoids decisions, or becomes inconsistent, and we assume a lack of effort or suitability. But many of these patterns are not character flaws.They are stress responses. Attachment styles do not…
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The Coercive Controller
He was a breath of fresh air.Until he wasn’t. The connection was instant.I told myself I had been through a lot.I deserved to give this a chance. He said he could see us lasting.That this was something special.I was hesitant.I wanted to believe. He was attentive. Consistent.Yes, I thought. That’s what I need. He mowed…
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The Party
It was almost exactly a year ago. We had just reconnected after a few weeks apart.The distance came from another party.A rupture.One where he had been inappropriate with another woman in front of me. Still, I was hopeful. It was his younger daughter’s party.I arrived early, at his house first. A small pre-gathering before the…
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The Last One
I had been through a lot.I had learned a lot.I had grown a lot. I was looking, not really engaging.Not really expecting. And then there he was. Honest.Conversational.Well kept.Stylish.Quirky.Great chat.Consistent.Open. A coffee date.This is pleasant. Another date.This is great. Measured.Easy.Humour.Depth. Such potential.Ah, I thought.This is not my usual.But I have grown.I recognise a quality man…
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The Scanner
I scan.Not because I want to.Because I had to. I learned it in childhood.Scanning to make sure my mum was still breathing. I learned it through sexual assault.Through abuse.Through relationships. I learned to notice the pause before the pause.The invitation that softened.The door that stopped being held. I felt withdrawal before it was spoken.My body…
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The Cake
The cake had been going well. They had laughed while mixing it, flour dusting the bench, music playing low. It felt easy. Comfortable. The kind of moment that suggests there might be more of these ahead. Then, as Mara slid the cake across the bench, it tipped. The cake cracked and sagged to one side.…
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After the Cake.
For a while, Mara thought about the cake more than she expected to.Not the moment it cracked, but what happened after. How quickly it was lifted.How decisively it was thrown away.How little room there had been to pause. She understood it now. Jon hadn’t meant to hurt her.He simply didn’t know how to stay with…
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The Cup Cakes.
Mara made cupcakes the next afternoon. Not because she needed sugar, or comfort, or distraction.She made them because she wanted to stay with the memory long enough to understand it, without replaying it. She moved slowly. Measured the flour. Cracked the eggs carefully. Let the kitchen be quiet. As they baked, she sat at the…
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Empty
They told me they were empty. Not in a dramatic way.Just a statement, offered early.I nodded and stayed. I walked alongside them.I offered time.A small box of moments.We talked. We laughed. We shared stories.There were hugs. Ease. A sense of something forming. They told me again they were empty. I stayed.We did things together.We went…
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Calm, Clear, Kind: Personal Boundaries Without Conflict
For a long time, I thought boundaries had to be sharp to be effective.Clear meant firm.Firm meant hard.And hard often meant cold. What I have learned, slowly and sometimes painfully, is that personal boundaries do not need emotional intensity to be real. They need clarity. Calm boundaries are not weak.They are regulated. When we are…
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The Sideways Talk
Things had changed. It wasn’t“Do you want to come to the river with me?”, anymore. It was“I’m going to the river. Would you like to join?” No longerThis is something I want to experience with you. Just an open door.No invitation held. I felt it immediately.The door cracked.A breeze through the room. We went to…
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The Emotional Impact of Abrupt Endings: A Personal Reflection.
I want to write about something quietly painful.Not to accuse.Not to analyse.Not to blame. Just to name what it felt like. Twice within a few months, the same connection ended abruptly. There was no space to stay with what was happening, no shared pause, no holding of the moment as it unravelled. What stayed with…
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The Pool
He gifted me the pools.An experience. A place. At first, it felt like something shared.Something that was introduced through him. When everything ended, I didn’t stay away.I went that first weekend knowing he was out of town.Not to avoid himbut to give myself space. I knew what I needed.The water. I craved the weight of…
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The Frosted Glass Kiosk.
The kiosk was made of frosted glass. You could see the outline of the person inside.A shape moving.Hands arranging something.A silhouette leaning forward when someone approached. From the outside, it felt safe.Contained.Orderly. She worked inside it. People came up to the small opening at the counter.Ordered what they needed.Exchanged a few polite words.Moved on. She…
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The Bravest Thing I’m Doing Is Letting Go
The thing I’m most scared to do is let go of what I’ve outgrown. Not because I don’t see it.I usually do. But because letting go asks me to step into a quieter kind of courage. The kind where no one claps, no one validates it, and no one else can do it for me.…
The Next Chapter Room 