Community is in the silent, unspoken agreements between friends—a look, a shared silence that says I may not understand, but I see you.

It’s in the borrowed spaces—
the fleeting encounter with a stranger that left traces of sweet-smelling fragrance. It’s
the smile of a person whose person you know and DMs that became a lifeline.

Community is rebellion—an act of defiance.
It’s saying that in a world that has come to glorify being an island, being cut off,
you choose to connect, gather, and care. Community says I’ll walk with you – even if I don’t know the way. I’ll share in your pain and joys alike.

It’s the neighbour who brings in your laundry whenever it rains. The friend who stays up with you at 1 am because you’ve just woken up from a bad dream. The stranger who shares a brief yet lasting conversation with you. The little child who waves at you. It’s the tiny acts of kindness that are easy to go unnoticed but deeply felt.

I once believed community was in the noise – in the crowd. I know now that community can be found in one person. I wasn’t sure what community looked like. Now I see it everywhere – and it looks like us: imperfect, trying, and beautiful.