Habits are a Foundation

We are creatures of habit, whether we realize it or not. The little rituals we carry, the way we organize our thoughts, or the way we react to certain moments—they all start somewhere. Most of the time, we don’t even notice them forming. They’re like vines creeping up a wall, slow and steady, until one day you’re surrounded by them, shaped by them.

Take my mother, for example. She had this habit of cleaning the house with precision that bordered on art. Every surface gleamed, every corner was spotless, and there was an unspoken rule: nothing stayed out of place for long. It wasn’t just about keeping things tidy—it was her way of creating a sanctuary, a space where chaos couldn’t touch us. I’d watch her, thinking I’d never pick up on that particular quirk. Yet here I am, years later, finding a strange comfort in scrubbing counters and rearranging bookshelves until everything feels just right.

And then there are the habits she has—the woman I can’t stop thinking about. The way she carefully arranges her space, as if she’s building a world she can control. The way she lingers on the last sentence of a book, as if letting it sink in before she lets it go. Every little habit tells a story, and with her, it’s like unraveling a mystery—one that keeps getting more fascinating with every answer.

But habits are more than just routines—they’re the essence of how we navigate the world. They can be comforting, or they can hold us back, like chains we didn’t realize we’d locked ourselves into. With her, I find myself questioning the ones I’ve held onto for years. Why do I deflect emotions with humor? Why does it take her voice to remind me to be honest with myself?

It’s strange, isn’t it? The habits we pick up to protect ourselves as kids sometimes follow us into adulthood, even when they no longer serve us. My mother’s spotless house was her way of creating calm in a storm. Now, when I clean with that same intensity, I wonder what storms I’m trying to quiet.

Maybe that’s what growth is: learning which habits to keep and which ones to leave behind. And then there’s the unspoken question—how much of who we are is shaped by habit, and how much is still up to us to decide? With her, I’m starting to think it’s more of the latter. She’s like a burst of color on a blank canvas, a reminder that change isn’t just possible—it’s necessary.

So, I’ll keep questioning, keep peeling back the layers of who I am and who I want to be. After all, habits might shape us, but they don’t define us—not entirely. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the most exciting part of all.

But as I ponder these thoughts, I can't help but wonder: what if the habits we choose to break or keep are the very keys to unlocking the mysteries of our hearts? And what if, in the process of unraveling these habits, we discover a love story that changes everything?