Back in the Newsroom

She paused her byline for lullabies. Now she returns, writing not just as a journalist, but as a mother.

- Khurram Rasool

It's a strange thing, standing at the edge of something that once felt like mine.

There's no real word for the feeling. Not grief. Not fear. Just a tightness in the chest. Like trying to step into your old shoes only to find they fit differently now. Not tighter, not looser, just... unfamiliar.

That's where I found myself a few months ago. Reaching out to old editors, hovering over the “Send” button on story pitches, rereading my own sentences like I didn't write them. Ten years. That's how long it’s been since I last called myself a journalist. Not a columnist or an ex-something. A working one. The kind who still chased ideas at midnight and rewrote the same paragraph five times before letting it go.

I wasn’t a big name. I didn't need to be. I knew my work. I trusted my voice. I found stories in ordinary corners and told them with the kind of hunger that only comes from knowing why you do what you do.

And then, I left.