21/05/2026
I feel ashamed posting this. Because I look tired. My skin is dry, my eyes uneven from nights that never quite became sleep. This was taken during one of those stretches where everything โ the thesis, the residents, the weight of carrying it all โ was happening at once and I just had to keep moving.
Most days, I am tired. Not the kind that a good night's rest fixes. The deep kind. The kind that lives in your chest and follows you around.
And my heart breaks a lot. More than I let on. Every animal that arrives already so broken. Every time resources run thin. Every time I lie awake doing the math and it doesn't add up. Every time I look at my residents and think, am I doing enough? Am I enough?
I know I don't give myself enough credit. I know that. It's easier to count what's missing than what's been given. Easier to see the gaps than the more than 400 lives that came into SoL and was given a chance at life, because I refused to look away.
But then Chance, our blind cat finds my hand in the dark and just rests his chin there. A dog like Akira who used to flinch at everything falls asleep on my foot. A kitten who arrived barely breathing starts to play, wobbly and ridiculous and so achingly alive.
And I have never known joy the way my residents give me joy.
Not the loud kind. The quiet, tucked-in kind. The kind that finds you in small moments when you are too tired to go looking for it.
I built Shelter of Light with no funding, no institution behind me, just a home and a stubborn inability to stop caring. Some days that feels like not enough. Most days, actually.
But my residents were fed today. They were loved today. Someone showed up for them today.
I am posting this because I think someone out there needs to see what this really looks like.
I am posting this because Shelter of Light needs support โ in whatever form that takes. A share. A donation. A kind word. A prayer. We have more than 90 residents who depend on this little home, and I am only one person.
And I am posting this because today, I needed to be seen. Not as someone who has it together. Just as someone who shows up anyway.
That's gotta count for something, right?