What Is Real?
She is a woman who moves through the world with a question stitched into her soul: What is real? She has struggled to find solid ground in the shifting sands of meaning. Words twist and change depending on who is speaking. Eyes can lie. Smiles don’t always mean kindness. She craves something she can touch, something she can know —not just understand. So she touches. She kneads bread with her bare hands, not because it’s easier, but because it’s closer. Closer to something true. She shapes cookie balls herself, refusing the cold precision of a kitchen tool. Every press, every roll is an offering—her skin to the surface, her energy to the dough. A therapist once told her she’s seeking connection. That she believes, even if she doesn’t say it aloud, that by touching something, she in a small way becomes part of it. That maybe when someone eats what she’s made, they’ll feel her, too. They’ll know she was there. They’ll feel real to her, and she to them....