Most people know what relationships look like from the outside:
- People spend holidays together
- Exchange gifts
- Send birthday messages
- Attend family gatherings
- Take photographs
- Sit around the same dinner table
- Share the same last name
- Follow one another on social media
Yet beneath those outward moments lies a deeper question: are these people actually connected?
Because two people can spend years in the same room while never truly knowing one another.
They can exchange polite conversation without ever feeling understood.
Celebrate holidays together while feeling profoundly alone.
Talk often without ever feeling heard.
Technology makes connection more accessible than ever, yet genuine connection still depends on presence rather than merely availability.
At the same time, two people may speak only occasionally and yet remain deeply connected because when they do interact, they meet one another with genuine curiosity, honesty, warmth, and care.
Connection is not measured simply by frequency; it is measured by presence.
It is the ongoing willingness to remain interested in another person's inner world.
To continue asking:
- "Who are you?"
- "How are you changing?"
- "What matters to you?"
- "How can I know you more deeply today than I did yesterday?"
Relationships slowly weaken whenever curiosity disappears.
Not because people stop loving one another.
But because they stop continuing the work of knowing one another.
Perhaps this is why genuine connection cannot be performed.
It cannot be manufactured through appearances.
Or obligatory traditions.
Or occasional gestures meant to check a box.
Connection grows whenever people repeatedly choose to be genuinely present with one another.
Jessica Carey
Connection Is Built, Not Assumed
One of the most common misunderstandings about relationships is the belief that connection, once established, simply remains.
We assume that because two people have known each other for years, they are still deeply connected:
- Because they are family
- Because they are married
- Because they have been friends since childhood
- Because they once shared meaningful experiences
History is valuable.
Shared memories matter.
Long-standing relationships deserve to be cherished.
But history alone cannot sustain connection.
A relationship is not like a photograph that captures a single moment and remains unchanged.
It is more like a garden.
A garden is not kept alive because it was once planted.
It flourishes because it continues to receive care.
Water.
Sunlight.
Attention.
Time.
Relationships grow in much the same way.
Connection is not built once; it is renewed again and again through ordinary moments of curiosity, kindness, honesty, and shared presence.
This does not mean relationships require constant communication.
Every relationship has its own rhythm.
People move.
Raise children.
Care for aging parents.
Navigate demanding jobs.
Experience illness.
Grieve losses.
Life naturally changes how often we are able to connect.
Healthy relationships make room for those seasons.
The deeper question is not: "How often do we talk?"
It is: "Are we still intentionally participating in one another's lives?"
There are many ways people continue building connection:
- They check in after an important event.
- They remember something that mattered months ago and ask how it turned out.
- They celebrate milestones.
- They notice changes.
- They make space for honest conversations.
- They reach out after silence instead of assuming someone else will.
These actions may seem small.
Yet they quietly communicate something profoundly important: "You are still part of my life."
Connection also requires openness.
If relationships are to remain alive, people must allow one another to keep discovering who they are becoming.
No one remains exactly the same throughout life.
We grow.
We learn.
We heal.
We experience joy and heartbreak.
We develop new interests.
We let go of old fears.
Healthy relationships make room for those changes instead of assuming they already know everything about one another.
Perhaps this is why assumptions are one of the quietest enemies of connection.
When we stop asking questions because we believe we already know someone completely, we stop discovering them.
Over time, we may find ourselves relating more to our memories of a person than to the person standing in front of us today.
Connection slowly fades whenever curiosity disappears.
Not because love was absent, but because the relationship stopped growing.
Perhaps that is one of the greatest invitations every relationship offers.
To continue asking: "Who are you becoming?"
And to remain willing to answer that same question ourselves.
Because genuine connection is not something we inherit.
Nor is it something we achieve once and keep forever.
It is something we continually create together.
One conversation.
One act of kindness.
One moment of genuine presence at a time.
Presence Is More Than Proximity
It is easy to mistake physical closeness for genuine connection.
We assume that because people live in the same house...
Work in the same office...
Attend the same gatherings...
Or spend years around one another...
They must know each other deeply.
Yet proximity and presence are not the same thing.
Two people can share a dinner table while remaining emotionally worlds apart.
A family can gather every holiday without anyone truly asking how another person is doing.
Friends can exchange messages every day while never feeling safe enough to be honest.
At the same time, people who see one another only occasionally may share conversations so genuine that they leave feeling deeply known, encouraged, and understood.
Connection is not created simply by occupying the same space; it is created by the quality of attention we bring into that space.
Presence asks something different than proximity.
It asks us to set aside assumptions.
To become curious again.
To truly listen rather than simply waiting for our turn to speak.
To notice what another person is saying—and sometimes what they are struggling to say.
Genuine presence communicates:
- "I'm here with you."
- "I want to understand your experience."
- "You have my attention."
That kind of presence cannot be faked.
People often recognize the difference immediately.
Most of us have experienced conversations where someone nodded politely while their attention was somewhere else.
Their words may have sounded kind.
Yet something felt distant.
We have also experienced the opposite.
Someone looked us in the eye.
Asked thoughtful questions.
Remembered something we shared weeks earlier.
Allowed silence instead of rushing to fill it.
Made us feel as though, for those few moments, we truly mattered.
The conversation itself may have been brief.
The connection was not.
This is because presence is less about the amount of time we spend together and more about how fully we show up while we are together.
Presence also means allowing people to keep surprising us.
When we assume we already know everything about someone, we stop paying attention.
We begin responding to yesterday's version of them rather than today's.
Healthy relationships remain curious.
They continue asking:
- "What's bringing you joy lately?"
- "What's been difficult?"
- "What are you learning?"
- "How have you changed?"
These questions do more than gather information.
They communicate something deeply meaningful: "I'm still interested in knowing you."
Perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person.
Not constant attention.
Not perfect words.
But the experience of being genuinely seen.
Because every person changes over time.
Dreams evolve.
Challenges arise.
New parts of ourselves emerge.
Connection remains alive when we continue making room to discover those changes together.
Perhaps that is why genuine presence feels so different from performance.
Performance tries to appear caring.
Presence actually cares.
One seeks to fulfill an expectation.
The other seeks to know a person.
And people can almost always feel the difference.
Because genuine connection has never depended on simply being near one another.
It grows whenever people choose to be fully present with one another, even in life's ordinary moments.
Jessica Carey
Being Heard Is Not the Same as Being Understood
Giving someone our attention is important.
It is one of the first ways we communicate respect.
We put away distractions.
Listen to their words.
Maintain eye contact.
Allow them space to speak.
These are meaningful expressions of care.
Yet genuine connection asks something even deeper.
It asks for attunement.
Attunement is more than hearing someone's words.
It is trying to understand the experience beneath those words.
It listens not only for information...
But for emotion.
For meaning.
For hopes that are difficult to express.
For fears someone may not know how to name.
Two people can hear the exact same sentence.
Only one may truly understand what the other person is trying to communicate.
Imagine someone saying: "I've just been really tired lately."
Attention hears the sentence.
Attunement gently wonders: "I wonder if something heavier is going on."
Someone says: "I'm fine."
Attention accepts the answer and moves on.
Attunement notices the trembling voice...
The forced smile...
The long pause before the words came.
It gently asks:
- "Are you sure?"
- "I'm here if you'd like to talk."
Attunement does not assume.
It does not pry.
It does not force people to share before they are ready.
Instead, it communicates something profoundly reassuring: "I'm paying attention to you—not just to your words."
Perhaps this is why attunement feels so different from performance.
Performance focuses on saying the right thing.
Attunement focuses on understanding the person.
One follows a script.
The other follows a human being.
Attunement also requires humility.
No one can perfectly understand another person's inner world.
Healthy relationships recognize this.
Instead of assuming they already understand, they continue asking:
- "Did I understand you correctly?"
- "Tell me more."
- "What was that like for you?"
These questions do more than gather information.
They communicate care.
They remind another person that understanding matters more than assumptions.
Perhaps that is one of the deepest forms of connection.
Not simply feeling heard.
But feeling understood.
Because one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person is the experience of knowing: "Someone cared enough to truly understand what life felt like from where I was standing."
People don't feel deeply loved because someone listened to every word they said.
They feel deeply loved because someone genuinely cared what those words meant.
Jessica Carey
People Long to Be Known, Not Managed
There is a profound difference between paying attention to someone in order to understand them and paying attention in order to manage them.
Management asks: "How do I get you to behave the way I want?"
Love asks: "Who are you, really?"
One seeks control.
The other seeks connection.
Connection isn't simply: "I know you."
It's also: "We create experiences together."
Shared memories.
Shared traditions.
Shared adventures.
Shared grief.
Shared laughter.
Relationships become richer because people continue creating new experiences instead of living entirely from old ones.
Genuine connection grows whenever people gradually become safe enough to share not only their strengths but also their fears, hopes, disappointments, questions, and dreams.
Vulnerability is not oversharing with everyone.
It is allowing trustworthy people to know us more completely over time.
Connection is not measured by how much of someone's life we know.
It is measured by how safe they feel bringing their life to us.
Genuine connection resembles two musicians learning to play together.
It requires listening as much as speaking.
Adjusting.
Responding.
Creating something neither person could create alone.
Jessica Carey
Curiosity Keeps Relationships Alive
Every person is continually changing.
Life shapes us in countless ways:
- We learn new things.
- We experience unexpected joys.
- We carry disappointments.
- We heal from old wounds.
- We discover new passions.
- We outgrow old fears.
- We become people our younger selves could never have imagined.
Healthy relationships make room for that ongoing transformation.
They recognize that knowing someone is not a destination we eventually arrive at; it is a lifelong invitation.
Curiosity is what keeps accepting that invitation.
It continues asking: "How are you?"
Not as a routine greeting...
But as a genuine question.
It wonders:
- "What's bringing you joy these days?"
- "What's been difficult?"
- "What are you excited about?"
- "What are you learning?"
- "How have you changed?"
These questions do more than gather information.
They communicate something deeply meaningful: "I still want to know you."
Perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts we can offer another person.
To remain interested in the life unfolding within them.
Unfortunately, assumptions often replace curiosity.
We tell ourselves:
- "I already know them."
- "They've always been this way."
- "Nothing has really changed."
Without realizing it, we begin relating to a memory instead of a living, growing person.
Over time, this creates a quiet kind of loneliness.
A person may be deeply loved...
Yet still feel unseen.
Not because anyone intended to ignore them.
But because no one continued asking who they were becoming.
Healthy relationships gently resist this drift.
They understand that every season of life brings new experiences worth discovering together.
The friend who once loved hiking may now find joy in gardening.
The quiet child may grow into a confident adult.
A parent who once seemed endlessly strong may now need encouragement themselves.
A spouse may discover a passion they never imagined pursuing.
None of these changes make someone a different person.
They simply reveal new dimensions of the person they have always been becoming.
Curiosity welcomes those discoveries instead of resisting them.
It delights in saying:
- "Tell me more."
- "I'd love to understand."
- "I hadn't thought about it that way."
These simple responses create room for authenticity.
They allow people to feel that they do not have to remain frozen in yesterday's version of themselves in order to stay connected.
Curiosity also creates humility.
It reminds us that no matter how long we have known someone, there will always be parts of their inner world we have yet to understand.
That realization is not discouraging.
It is beautiful.
Because it means relationships never have to stop growing.
There is always another story to hear.
Another dream to celebrate.
Another burden to help carry.
Another layer of a person's humanity waiting to be discovered.
Perhaps this is why genuine connection feels so alive.
It is continually renewed by people who never stop becoming students of one another.
Because love is not merely the confidence that we know someone.
Love is the willingness to keep learning.
Jessica Carey
Performative Care Cannot Replace Genuine Care
Most relationships include traditions.
Birthdays.
Holidays.
Anniversaries.
Family gatherings.
Cards.
Gifts.
Celebrations.
These rituals can be beautiful.
They create memories.
Mark important milestones.
Remind people that they are valued.
At their best, they become meaningful expressions of an already healthy relationship.
Yet something important happens when the ritual becomes more important than the relationship itself.
A birthday gift cannot replace genuine curiosity.
A holiday dinner cannot substitute for months of emotional distance.
A polite greeting cannot make someone feel deeply known.
Checking every expected box does not automatically create connection, and this is because relationships are not sustained by outward performances.
They are sustained by inward presence.
Most people can sense the difference.
There is a difference between receiving a gift from someone who has been paying attention...
And receiving a gift from someone who simply wanted to fulfill an obligation.
There is a difference between hearing: "How are you?" from someone who is genuinely interested...
And hearing the same words from someone who has already stopped listening.
The outward actions may look nearly identical.
The inward posture is completely different.
Genuine care begins long before any outward expression.
It begins with paying attention.
Listening carefully.
Remembering what matters to another person.
Learning their joys.
Noticing their struggles.
Celebrating the things that make them uniquely themselves.
The gift, the conversation, or the act of service simply becomes an outward expression of that deeper knowledge.
Without that foundation, even thoughtful gestures can begin to feel strangely empty.
People often describe this feeling without knowing exactly how to explain it.
Everything looked right.
The traditions happened.
The words were spoken.
The photos were taken.
Yet something essential was missing.
They did not feel known.
Perhaps this is because human beings long for something deeper than acknowledgment.
We long to be understood.
To know that another person has taken the time to discover who we are rather than simply assuming they already know.
That is why genuine care is always personal.
It is shaped by the unique person standing in front of us.
It recognizes that what helps one person feel loved may be different from what helps another.
It remembers.
It notices.
It adapts.
It continues learning.
Perhaps that is one of the quietest ways love reveals itself.
Not by doing what is merely expected.
But by responding to who another person truly is.
Because genuine care is never about performing the role of a loving person.
It is about continually becoming the kind of person whose actions naturally grow out of love, attention, and authentic connection.
Jessica Carey
Relationships Need Ongoing Investment
Every healthy relationship has one thing in common.
It is continually nurtured.
Not perfectly.
Not constantly.
But intentionally.
Many of the strongest relationships are not defined by dramatic moments.
They are shaped by ordinary ones:
- A message asking how an important appointment went
- Remembering something someone mentioned weeks ago
- Sharing good news
- Checking in during a difficult season
- Celebrating a small victory
- Making time for an honest conversation
- Listening without immediately trying to solve a problem
These moments may appear insignificant on their own.
Yet over time, they become the threads that weave trust, familiarity, and belonging together.
Relationships rarely become strong because of one extraordinary day.
They become strong because people continue showing one another: "You still matter to me."
Like any living thing, relationships require nourishment.
Not because love is fragile.
But because connection is something that is continually experienced in the present.
Yesterday's conversation cannot sustain today's relationship forever.
Neither can last year's shared memories.
Those moments remain precious.
They become part of the relationship's foundation.
But healthy relationships continue adding new moments to that foundation as life unfolds.
This does not mean every relationship requires the same amount of interaction.
Different seasons naturally change what is possible:
- A new parent caring for an infant
- Someone supporting an aging parent
- A friend navigating illness
- A person experiencing burnout
Busy seasons are part of being human.
Healthy relationships make room for changing capacities without demanding perfection.
What matters is not constant availability; it is the continued willingness to remain engaged with one another whenever we are able.
Investment also looks different from person to person:
- Some people naturally express care through thoughtful conversations
- Others through practical help
- Some remember every birthday
- Others quietly appear whenever life becomes difficult
- Some send encouraging messages
- Others create connection through shared experiences
Healthy relationships make room for different expressions of care while recognizing that every relationship still needs some form of ongoing nourishment.
Without new experiences together...
Without curiosity...
Without shared moments...
Without responding to one another over time...
Connection gradually begins to weaken.
Not because someone intentionally stopped caring.
But because every living relationship depends upon continued participation.
Perhaps that is why healthy relationships are never maintained on autopilot.
They continue growing because people keep making small choices that say:
- "I'm still here."
- "I'm still interested in your life."
- "I'm grateful we're walking through this season together."
None of these choices are especially dramatic.
Yet together they create something remarkable.
A relationship that continues feeling alive.
Because genuine connection is not sustained by extraordinary effort once in a while.
It is sustained by ordinary faithfulness practiced over time.
Jessica Carey
Silence Also Communicates
Communication is about far more than words.
It includes what we say.
What we do.
What we remember.
What we respond to.
And sometimes...
What remains unanswered.
Silence is a natural part of every relationship.
Friends become busy.
Families move.
Children are born.
Jobs become demanding.
Health changes.
People enter seasons where they have less emotional energy than usual.
Healthy relationships often make room for these realities with patience, grace, and understanding.
Life does not always allow us to communicate as often as we might like.
Connection is not measured by constant conversation, yet relationships are also shaped by patterns.
Over time, repeated silence begins communicating something of its own.
It may communicate exhaustion.
Overwhelm.
Grief.
Uncertainty.
Distance.
Avoidance.
Or simply that a relationship has become less active than it once was.
Sometimes we know what that silence means.
Often, we do not.
That uncertainty can be one of the hardest parts.
The human mind naturally tries to fill in unanswered questions:
- "Did I do something wrong?"
- "Are they angry with me?"
- "Are they struggling?"
- "Do they still want this relationship?"
- "Should I keep reaching out?"
Without communication, certainty becomes difficult.
This is why even small moments of responsiveness can carry great meaning:
- A brief message
- An emoji reaction
- A simple: "I'm overwhelmed right now, but I'm thinking of you."
These responses may take only a few moments.
Yet they often communicate something much larger:
- "The relationship still matters to me."
- "I haven't forgotten you."
- "I'm just in a difficult season."
Of course, not everyone has the capacity to respond in the ways they wish they could.
Some seasons genuinely leave people with very little energy.
Compassion invites us to remember that we rarely know the full story someone is living.
At the same time, it is also okay to acknowledge another truth.
Relationships are experienced through connection.
When connection remains absent for a long time, people naturally begin to experience the relationship differently.
That does not necessarily mean someone intended to cause pain.
Nor does it automatically erase years of shared history.
But it does mean that something important has changed in the present.
Recognizing this is not an act of blame.
It is simply an act of honesty.
Healthy relationships are not defined by perfect consistency.
They are defined by a shared willingness to reconnect.
To acknowledge distance.
To repair when needed.
To make room for one another again.
Perhaps that is one of the quietest truths about connection.
Relationships do not weaken because people experience difficult seasons.
They weaken when those seasons become permanent without anyone helping the relationship find its way back to one another.
Because every relationship breathes through connection.
And like every living thing...
It needs moments of renewed life in order to keep growing.
Jessica Carey
Repair Restores Connection
No relationship remains perfectly connected all the time:
- Misunderstandings happen
- Busy seasons come and go
- Words are spoken too quickly
- Messages are forgotten
- Expectations go unspoken
- People become overwhelmed
- Life changes
- Distance appears
Disconnection is not, by itself, evidence that a relationship has failed.
It is part of being human.
The question is not whether moments of disconnection will occur.
The question is what happens after we notice them.
Healthy relationships are not sustained by pretending nothing happened.
Nor are they strengthened by keeping score of every hurt.
Instead, they make room for repair.
Repair begins with honesty.
Sometimes it sounds like:
- "I realize I've been distant lately."
- "I'm sorry I haven't been as present as I wanted to be."
- "I think we misunderstood each other."
- "Can we talk about what happened?"
These conversations are not always easy.
They require humility.
Vulnerability.
A willingness to acknowledge that something in the relationship needs attention.
Yet they also communicate something deeply reassuring: "This relationship matters enough for me to move toward you instead of away from you."
Repair also requires listening.
Not listening to prepare a defense.
Not listening to decide who was right.
But listening to understand another person's experience.
Healthy repair is less interested in winning an argument than in rebuilding connection.
Sometimes repair happens quickly.
Sometimes it unfolds over weeks or months.
Trust may need time to heal.
New boundaries may need to be established.
New patterns may need to be practiced.
Repair is rarely a single conversation.
More often, it is a series of consistent choices that gradually rebuild confidence in one another.
Repair also asks something of the person who has been hurt.
When it is safe and appropriate, it invites them to speak honestly about their experience.
Not to punish.
Not to shame.
But to give the relationship an opportunity to understand what happened and grow from it.
Honesty creates the possibility of healing.
Silence often leaves misunderstanding untouched.
Of course, repair cannot happen through the efforts of only one person.
One person can extend an invitation.
They can apologize.
Reach out.
Express care.
Remain open.
But genuine repair requires willingness on both sides.
Connection cannot be rebuilt if only one person continues crossing the bridge while the other never steps onto it.
That reality can be painful to acknowledge.
Yet it also protects us from carrying a responsibility that belongs to more than one person.
Healthy relationships are mutual.
Both people participate in caring for what they share.
Perhaps that is why repair is such a profound expression of love.
It quietly says:
- "You matter more to me than my pride."
- "Our relationship is worth the discomfort of this conversation."
- "I would rather understand you than simply defend myself."
Those choices do not erase every hurt.
But over time, they create something even stronger than the absence of conflict.
They create trust.
Because every successful repair teaches the relationship something beautiful: "Even when we lose connection for a while... we know how to find one another again."
Repair often changes the relationship.
Not necessarily back to exactly what it was.
Sometimes stronger.
Sometimes with healthier boundaries.
Sometimes with different expectations.
Repair isn't always restoration to the previous version of the relationship.
Sometimes it's the beginning of a healthier new one.
Jessica Carey
Connection Grows Through Shared Joy
Some of the deepest moments of connection are not created during life's hardest seasons.
They are created while laughing over dinner.
Watching a sunset together.
Creating art.
Taking a walk.
Playing a board game.
Sharing music.
Dreaming about the future.
Sitting comfortably in silence.
Joy is not a distraction from connection.
It is one of the ways connection deepens.
Relationships need more than conversations about problems.
They also need experiences that remind people why they enjoy sharing life together.
Healthy connection also delights in another person's existence.
It isn't only grateful for what someone contributes or accomplishes.
It enjoys who they are.
Some of the deepest moments of connection happen when people simply enjoy being together without needing to fix, accomplish, or prove anything.
Jessica Carey
Connection Is How Love Becomes Real
Perhaps one of the greatest misconceptions about relationships is the belief that love exists independently of connection.
That if people have enough history...
Enough shared memories...
Enough titles...
Enough traditions...
The relationship will simply take care of itself.
Yet relationships are not preserved by the passage of time alone.
They remain alive because people continue choosing one another.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Throughout this article, we've explored a simple but profound truth.
Connection is not something we stumble into once and keep forever.
It is something we continually create.
Through curiosity.
Through presence.
Through genuine care.
Through ongoing investment.
Through repair.
Through choosing to keep discovering the person in front of us.
That does not require perfection.
Every relationship experiences seasons of distance.
Misunderstandings.
Busy schedules.
Changing responsibilities.
Periods when life asks more of us than we feel able to give.
Healthy relationships make room for those seasons with compassion.
But they also recognize that connection cannot live on memories alone.
Like every living thing, relationships need moments of renewed life:
- A conversation
- A thoughtful question
- An apology
- Shared laughter
- A quiet check-in
- A willingness to reach toward one another once again
Perhaps that is why genuine connection feels so different from performance.
Performance asks: "Have I done enough to appear caring?"
Connection asks: "How can I help this person feel known, valued, and understood?"
One fulfills an expectation.
The other nurtures a relationship.
And people can usually feel the difference.
Perhaps this is because every human heart longs for more than acknowledgment.
We long to know that someone continues choosing to know us.
Not the version of us from five years ago.
Not the version they have imagined in their minds.
But the person we are today.
Still growing.
Still learning.
Still becoming.
That kind of connection is one of life's greatest gifts.
It reminds us that we do not have to perform to earn belonging.
We do not have to remain frozen in old versions of ourselves to be loved.
We are free to grow because healthy relationships continue making room to discover one another again.
Perhaps that is what genuine connection has always been.
Not simply sharing time.
But sharing attention.
Not merely exchanging words.
But continually opening our lives to one another with honesty, curiosity, humility, and care.
Because in the end, relationships are not measured by how long they have existed.
They are shaped by how faithfully people continue showing up within them.
And perhaps one of the most loving questions we can ask the people who matter to us is not: "How long have I known you?"
But: "Who are you becoming... and how can I keep walking alongside you?"
Because genuine connection is where love becomes visible.
It is where trust grows.
Where belonging deepens.
Where relationships remain alive.
And where people are continually reminded of one of the deepest human truths:
To be truly known... and still lovingly welcomed... is one of the greatest gifts we can ever give or receive.
Relationships are rarely transformed by one extraordinary conversation.
They are shaped by ordinary moments of genuine presence repeated over time.
Every relationship quietly asks: "Are we still discovering one another?"
Relationships are like campfires; they do not remain warm simply because they once burned brightly.
They continue giving warmth because people keep tending them.
A conversation here.
A shared meal there.
A repaired misunderstanding.
A moment of laughter.
Another log gently added to the fire.
Over time, those ordinary acts become the warmth people gather around.
Jessica Carey
Want even more content about creativity and art?
Be sure to check out all of our creative chronicles!
If you'd like to see examples of my work, you can find some of my art and creations at Redbubble and Gumroad!
Looking to learn more about my recent journey?
Check some of these articles:
-The Difference Between Resting and Giving Up
-Hidden Gems for St. Louis Artists
-Hidden Gems for Autistic & Neurodivergent Adults
-I Think I Might Be Autistic... Now What?
Jessica Carey
