Journal Entry **Good Person** I don’t feel like I’m a good person sometimes. Not in a dramatic or destructive way—just in the little things. Like when someone texts me, _“How’s your day been?”_ and I realize I never think to ask that first. It’s small, I know, but it weighs on me. It makes me wonder what being a good, kind or thoughtful person really looks like, because I want to be that. I do. But then I notice how often I wait for people to reach out. How rarely I initiate. How many conversations I never start not because I don’t care, but because something in me hesitates. It’s not that I’m indifferent. If someone started talking to me, I’d listen until the sky changed color. I’d hold space for every story, every sigh, every silence. But I struggle to make that first move. And sometimes that makes me feel… disconnected. Like I care too quietly. Like I’m watching people I love through a window I can’t seem to open. I tell myself it’s self-protection. That it’s trauma, distance, maybe even just exhaustion. And maybe it _is_. But at some point, I have to ask myself: When does self-awareness turn into avoidance? When does knowing the why stop being enough? It’s not about fixing everything overnight. It’s not about becoming the kind of person who floods the group chat or checks in every day. I think it’s just about noticing the gap between how much I feel and how little I show. Because I don’t want to keep mistaking emotional caution for coldness. I don’t want to be the person who always means well but never says it out loud. Maybe being a good person isn’t about always knowing what to say, but being willing to keep learning how to say it.