Swiping Left on Survival

Swiping left took on a different meaning.

Each swipe revealed new words.

Each swipe carried the story forward—

one more page,

one more breath,

one more moment suspended in between.

But what did the swipe do to my soul?

As the story unfolded, I began to wonder—

what was I really learning?

Was it endless love,

wrapped in hope and heartbreak?

Was it the comfort of fantasy—

worlds of dragons and fire,

places where bravery was clear

and purpose was written in bold?

Or was it strategy—

quiet lessons on how to lead,

how to survive,

how to carry weight without letting it show?

What did the pages give me each day—

those stolen hours

spent between the lines,

searching for something unnamed?

And after all that time—

after countless swipes,

countless stories,

countless versions of who I could be—

did my own story unfold

the way it was always meant to?