I’m not starting from glory
I’m starting from reality, from what’s left after the world pulls you apart a little.
The pieces you scoop up with bare hands, still a little bleeding, still believing that there’s something worth building.

Barefoot in NYC isn’t a story with a plot, or another blog glorifying the hustle culture.
It’s the slow, stubborn art of becoming and growing —
in the spaces no one claps for,
where resilience is quieter than breathing.

I’m not here to tell you how it ends.
I’m here to walk barefoot across the rough ground,
to name the unnamed aches,
to write the chapters I once thought would stay silent forever.

If you know what it’s like to battle your ego,
if you carry dreams that at times hurt to hold,
this place was already yours before you found it.