Why do I feel like hiding?

Thought No. 5

I feel happy and still want to hide. Why? I’m grateful for my little life, the people in it and the way I spend my time. I hear people around me talk about running away, the need to escape from it all. I don’t resonate with this idea anymore. In my early 20s’ that’s what I did. I escaped. Now, I want to hide when I feel overwhelmed. I’m not craving being alone in my hideaway. I don’t want to be seen. At the same time, I do want to be seen. Seen for baking cakes?

A capture of the coconut cardamom cake I baked yesterday, filled with maple cinnamon apricot compote and dressed in vanilla bean whipped cream.

It feels like I can be surrounded by the people I love, living a life full of meaning, yet still feel an instinctual urge to hide. It’s almost like an internal rhythm that’s set to be fulfilled at times. I crave a little space and the people I love in that little space. It feels like sitting on a cloud to me, possibly drinking a coffee there.

I want to feel a kind of closeness that’s intentional and restorative, instead of the wide distance that was once a retreat. I don’t know if there’s a wisdom in wanting to create small, sacred space and invite the people I love into it? Society frames connection to be loud. It almost feels criminal to crave quiet connection and still chase after my goals.

Running away, in all its forms, might have been a way to manage my overwhelm, to carve out some quiet or relief. But each time, it’s was a temporary fix. The distance—physical or emotional—was a shield, a way to protect my younger yourself when things felt too much to bear. And yet, every time I retreated, it was almost like you I was running toward a version of yourself that was lost, fragmented, or overwhelmed by the world. In that moment, running away felt like the only way to breathe again.

But now, it’s different. I’ve come to a place where running doesn’t have the same pull. I’m no longer seeking escape in the same way. Instead, craving space, not for absence, but for presence. I want the time and space to gather my thoughts, recharge my energy, and breathe in a way that doesn’t require distancing yourself from the people who matter most. My understanding of myself has shifted. I feel like I need a quieter kind of togetherness instead of isolation. Maybe sharing some cookies?

Pictured holding my pistachio double choc brown butter cookies, right after the bake finished.

The best way I can explain how it feels to have a little space is starlight. Fragments of everything I need: peace, love, comfort, and the right amount of space to just be. Being there feels enhancing and comforting.

That’s all I have for this moment. It always feels so scary and raw sharing these thoughts with you. Thank you for being here and reading if you made it this far. Be right back. Buying a record player for my little space :’)

Christiana