I hate fall, but I love autumn.

Fall feels like tripping, and the first day of school. It is like when you walk into your classroom and see that everyone has a partner to sit with. Fall is fast and sharp, and it doesn’t wait for you to catch your breath. One day it’s warm, the next it’s bitter, then it’s clouded with grey skies, like even the air doesn’t know what it wants to be. The leaves fall too quickly, piling up in corners in my backyard. And I think maybe that’s why it all feels this way, everything moving forward whether you’re ready or not, everything changing before you’ve had time to get comfortable.

But autumn, my favourite. Autumn is slower. It is the sound of leaves crunching under your shoes when you walk, the glow of the sun that warms the side of your face even when the air is cool. I love the ritual of wrapping myself in a cozy sweater that feels more like a welcoming hug, rather than a piece of clothing. It is spending Saturday afternoons in the kitchen with family, baking cinnamon rolls and drinking chai tea. It doesn’t shove you forward, but instead it invites you in.

Fall reminds me of endings.

Autumn reminds me that endings can be beautiful.

I hate fall, but I love autumn. And maybe, somewhere between them, I’ll figure out how to love myself a little more, too.