Hi, I'm Emilia Isabelle

Alone.

There are days when I just need to disappear for a bit, I can’t specify how long, but the urge to be alone is mandatory. Not because I don’t care, not because I’m being rude or cold, but because I feel overwhelmed, I’ve reached burn out, and I appreciate not everyone will understand. Sometimes it’s hard to explain the feeling like the world is too loud, people are too close, and every demand, no matter how small, feels like too much. The expectations people have for me are too high, and I can’t meet them even with all the will in the world.

When that happens, I need to pull back. I need silence. I need space. I need to just be without noise, without pressure, without expectation.

I’ve learned that isolation, for me, isn’t avoidance. It’s maintenance. It’s how I refuel. When I have free time, it’s rare and while part of me wants to see friends or family, to say yes to invitations and connection, there is another part of me who is pleading and begging for stillness, to slow down. I spent so long in survival mode that peace feels like luxury, and quiet feels like healing.

Sometimes, I need to go to bed early. Sometimes, I need to write. Sometimes, I just need to sit in the quiet and listen to my own thoughts again. It’s not that I don’t love people, I do. It’s that I need to love me, too.

The quiet moments have become sacred. I want to feel every second of tranquillity, every breath of calm that life offers me. When the world spins too fast, solitude is what brings me home to myself.

When I do decide it’s time for me to disappear for a while, please don’t take it personally. I’m not being dismissive or unfun, I’m recharging and filling my own cup. I’m honouring the parts of me that were once too tired to even ask for rest.

Sometimes, I just need to be alone, not because I’m lonely, but because I’m healing.