What a story. Thank you, Sophia, for the clarity, the grace—and that kind of quiet strength that so few ever speak aloud.
Reading this, I remembered a message I once sent you many years ago. It was just after you’d lost your father. I don’t know if you ever saw it, but it came from a sense I had, an ache I couldn’t quite explain… and perhaps still can’t.
This piece touches on something many never name: how invisible certain forces can be when we’re pushing toward excellence—whether on the track, in the lab, or through life. I resonated deeply with the way you described what it’s like when the body no longer wants to keep chasing something the soul has outgrown. How the weight of systems—sometimes even well-meaning ones—can become unbearable when the deeper ‘yes’ has shifted somewhere else.
You’ve always moved with both fire and clarity. And now, even more so. This was beautiful to read. Thank you again for speaking it.
What a story. Thank you, Sophia, for the clarity, the grace—and that kind of quiet strength that so few ever speak aloud.
Reading this, I remembered a message I once sent you many years ago. It was just after you’d lost your father. I don’t know if you ever saw it, but it came from a sense I had, an ache I couldn’t quite explain… and perhaps still can’t.
This piece touches on something many never name: how invisible certain forces can be when we’re pushing toward excellence—whether on the track, in the lab, or through life. I resonated deeply with the way you described what it’s like when the body no longer wants to keep chasing something the soul has outgrown. How the weight of systems—sometimes even well-meaning ones—can become unbearable when the deeper ‘yes’ has shifted somewhere else.
You’ve always moved with both fire and clarity. And now, even more so. This was beautiful to read. Thank you again for speaking it.
—Alex K.