Tonight, I finally cleaned out the junk drawer in my apartment. Not the exciting thing most 19-year-olds are doing on a Tuesday, I know 😅

But in all that old receipts, random keys, and broken chargers, I found a tiny, smooth river stone. I don’t remember picking it up, but I know I must have. It was the kind of thing I’d pocket as a kid when I felt unseen—a small, solid thing that was just mine.

It’s funny how we hold onto little pieces of ourselves, sometimes without even realizing it. And sometimes, growth isn’t about big declarations, but just about finally clearing out the drawer and noticing what’s still there, waiting to be seen.

What’s a small, forgotten thing you’ve rediscovered lately that told you a story?