A.S. Thorne

What Change, Big or Small, Would You Like Your Blog to Make in the World?

If I’m being honest—and I didn’t come here to lie—
I don’t want to write a blog that teaches you how to be better.

I want to write a blog that gives you permission to be exactly as you are.

Not the you with the curated smile or the well-lit bookshelf in the background.
Not the you who shrinks herself to fit into polite conversation.
Not the you who says “I’m fine” through gritted teeth and cracked mascara.
I mean the real you.
The one with too many feelings.
The one who survived things she never told anyone about.
The one who feels too much and apologizes too often and stays too quiet because she doesn’t want to be a burden.

I want my words to crawl inside that silence.
I want them to sit beside you on the bathroom floor when you’re too tired to keep pretending.
I want them to reach out like a trembling hand and whisper,
“You don’t have to earn your right to exist.”

Because that’s the change I want to make.

I want someone to stumble across this messy corner of the internet and feel the weight in their chest shift just slightly. Not disappear, maybe not even lighten—but move. Because something inside them finally, finally felt seen.

I don’t need to be famous. I don’t need a viral post or a book deal or a thousand comments (though hey, universe, I’m open). What I need—what I ache for—is to be the voice someone finds in the dark that says:

“You’re not broken. You’re becoming.”

I want this blog to be the thing you read at 2:17am when your heart is breaking and you think no one else gets it.
I want it to say the words you didn’t know how to say.
I want it to remind you that surviving is a radical act of rebellion in a world that keeps trying to erase you.

So if you’re here, still reading?
I hope you stop apologizing for being too much.
I hope you start loving yourself in the quiet, raw, unfiltered way you always deserved.
And I hope, more than anything, that you speak—even if your voice trembles, even if your story isn’t tied in a pretty bow.

Let the world hear you.

Let you hear you.

Because you’re allowed to exist loudly.
You’re allowed to take up space.
You’re allowed to live without shame.

And if no one ever told you that before?

Let me be the first.

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🖋️ Your Invitation to Go Deeper

If anything in these words stirred something in you—don’t silence it. Don’t shove it back down just because it’s inconvenient or messy or too loud.

Instead, let it speak.

Take a moment. Grab a notebook, open a blank doc, or whisper it into your voice notes if that’s all you’ve got in you.

And ask yourself:

• What part of me have I been apologizing for?
• Who told me I had to shrink?
• What do I want to say—truly say—if I stop editing myself to be palatable?
• What kind of softness do I need to survive this week?
• If I gave myself permission to feel without shame… what would I finally be free to write?

There’s no right way to answer.
Just your way.

You don’t have to be brave.
You just have to begin.

I’ll be here.
In the dark.
Listening.

— A.S. Thorne