It is therapeutic for me to write because I believe that it is where freedom begins. With the page I can express myself without obstruction, no interruptions, no expectations, no need to explain. It’s a very private terrain, where instinct leads and honesty counts. When I write, I am in control. The world quiets, and urgency dissolves. Thoughts can come in and leave at their own time, travel, rearrange themselves. I can linger over a sentence, or abandon it altogether, guided by intuition rather than outcome. This is a form of control not of precision, but of permission, permission to move through uncertainty without resistance. Writing becomes an exhale. The jumble of thoughts and emotions that builds in my mind loosens its grip and spills onto the page where it can begin to breathe. What had been tangled starts to take shape; what felt overwhelming becomes navigable. What I can’t carry for long is absorbed into the page. The scattered finds structure through words without confinement. Contradictions are allowed to coexist. Silence matters as much as sound. There is no resolution that writing requires, only presence. It offers release rather than answers, clarity without simplification. Something changes in the quiet exchange between thought and language. The act of writing becomes restorative, a means of listening inwardly and translating what is felt but unspoken. When the words finally settle, so do I; lighter, clearer, and momentarily at ease.  The satisfaction I feel when my words finally find expression is priceless. It's freedom!!!