The Tenderness of Honesty

The Tenderness of Honesty

By Annette Camp 

September 10, 2025 

I said too much,

too soon, and the 

word love slipped 

out of me like breath 

I couldn’t hold.

You left it unanswered,

a weight pressed 

against my chest,

the simple expression 

of good night cut deep.

I erased the text,

as if deletion could 

rewrite the moment,

as if feelings vanish

when pulled back 

into the shadow.

But they don’t.

They live, they ache,

they insist on being heard.

And then came your 

apology for the silence.

It was enough to remind 

me that we are trying,

fumbling forward,

learning how to stand in 

the tenderness of honesty.

It makes my heart sing

when we step into this

open communication 

together, laying down 

what is fragile, even 

when it’s uncomfortable

or painful. It is real.

I love that about us,

the pause to reflect 

what that means for 

ourselves, as well as 

in the dynamic of us.

Here, between the words,

is where we build something

strong and steady —

the pause before response,

the owning of what stings,

the reaching for forgiveness.

I hope in the warmth of 

your presence, we can 

carry this understanding 

into the space beyond screens, 

where silence is a moment 

meant for gathering what 

is true before we place it 

in each other’s hands.

Answering Fear, Not Fleeing

Answering Fear, Not Fleeing

By Annette Camp 

September 6, 2025

Fear rises,

a familiar pull at the 

edges of my heart.

It whispers to retreat, 

to protect, to run before 

I feel the weight of loss again.

But this time, I pause.

I notice the tremor, the 

instinct to escape,

and instead of yielding,

I let the fear speak.

I listen.

I see what it carries—

memories, pain, patterns,

and I respond with 

awareness, not avoidance.

You lay out your truths 

like letters in a box,

folded carefully, honored

but not ruling the present.

I honor mine,

acknowledge the past,

and choose presence.

Together we step slowly,

with patience as our guide,

with words bridging 

uncertainty, with care 

that builds rather than divides.

This lesson is not about 

perfection, but about 

choosing to stay,

to answer fear with 

attention, to turn 

toward connection,

and let trust grow

quietly in its place.

Whispers and Welcome

Whispers and Welcome

By Annette Camp 

September 1, 2025

Coming home to Alabama,

there's no need to explain my accent.

I don’t have to bike the whole neighborhood,

paddle a river, or climb a mountain

to feel that I belong.

In Colorado, the mountains and rivers welcome me,

their vastness and light carrying a quiet joy,

neighborhoods stretching wide and still,

inviting me to wander, to breathe, to discover.

Here, Alabama greets me differently.

Pink blossoms nod in the afternoon breeze,

light showers scatter across the yard,

and birds chirp to awaken the day.

Family surrounds me, my best friend nearby,

and the air itself lets me simply be.

The door creaks open for me,

bringing to mind all that I love -

the people, laughter, hugs, warmth -

and I settle into the rhythm of my dad's home.

Returning, old streets whisper memories,

and the possibility of staying longer than a moment

stirs quietly inside me.

I look toward the future with curiosity,

wondering which places, which people,

which rhythms and spaces,

will hold me, shape me,

and finally make me feel at home.

A Sacred Prayer

A Sacred Prayer

By Annette Camp 

September 4, 2025

Prayer does not rush;

it unfolds in deliberate

meditative, affirmative pauses

and deep, conscious breathing.

Each breath draws me inward

and grounds me in the present.

I become aware of the quiet

currents beneath my restless mind.

Affirmations provide clarity

and bring intention to this moment.

They guide me gently

and soften tension within.

The pauses unfold—

deliberate, reflective, tender.

Prayer invites me to linger

and rest in quiet understanding.

I honor the stillness around me,

listening deeply to my heart's messages.

Each moment offers gentle guidance,

shaping understanding without hurry.

True guidance is not found in speed,

but in breath, in attentive presence.

In these quiet pauses, I discover

what my soul has been seeking.

With each inhale, I gather clarity,

with each exhale, I let go of tension.

These deep, conscious breaths guide me,

revealing patience, presence, and calm.

The map of my inner life

emerges very slowly.

With every inhale and exhale,

a prayer unfolds within me.