For me, “dancing in the dark” isn’t some romantic notion. It’s the everyday reality of moving forward even when you can’t see the full picture. It’s showing up for my shifts even when I’m exhausted and worried about bills. It’s helping Xavy with his homework even when my brain feels like mush. It’s putting on a brave face and trying to be present, even when the weight of responsibility feels heavy.

It’s about trusting my instincts, even when logic feels shaky. It’s about finding small moments of joy – a funny comment from Xavy, a beautiful sunset over the ocean, a kind word from a friend – and letting those little sparks of light guide me. It’s not graceful, this dance. There are stumbles, missteps, and moments where I feel like I’m just flailing. But I keep moving, because stopping isn’t an option. My son is counting on me, and somewhere in this darkness, I believe there’s a path forward.