If she were a song…

January 22, 2026

If she were a song, she’d be Smile.
Not because joy comes easily,
but because she learned how to stand
when it didn’t.

She smiles the way some people breathe,
not to perform,
not to convince,
but to survive.
To keep something tender alive.

Her weight is invisible. Unclaimed.
Dressed in competence and warmth,
tempered with laughter.
It never misses a beat,
yet never tells the whole story.

Maybe that’s what Chaplin knew.
Maybe that’s what Nat felt.
That sometimes a smile is not happiness,
it’s resistance.
A fragile, stubborn kind of hope.

If she were a song, she’d be Smile.
Not because she isn’t hurting,
but because she chooses
not to disappear.

And if this sounds like you,
here’s a smile,
and the quiet grace
to keep going.

With love, from Sophie