Paige Madison
Bio
I’m so glad you’re here, and I hope my stories feel like a warm conversation with an old friend.
Between What Breaks and Blooms - Available on Amazon and Kindle
Stories (28)
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To My Forever Family
Dear Mom, Dad, and my four big brothers, I don’t think I’ll ever truly find the words to capture the depth of my gratitude, but I want to try. When I look back on my life and imagine what it might have been without you, I feel a wave of both sorrow and relief—the sorrow of what could have been, and the overwhelming relief of what actually is. Because of you, my story was rewritten into one of safety, joy, and love. Because of you, I got to grow up knowing what it feels like to belong.
By Paige Madison4 months ago in Families
Listening to My Mind and Body
Today has been one of those days when I feel like my mind and body finally spoke the same language. So often, it feels as if they’re at odds—my mind pushing forward, chasing tasks and goals, while my body drags behind, tired or tense, waiting for me to notice it. But today, there was harmony. I listened, and I responded with kindness. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt real.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Journal
Morning at the Campsite
Journal Entry – August 30, 2025 Journal Entry – August 30, 2025 I’m sitting at the picnic table outside the trailer, coffee in hand, trying to capture the morning in words. Dad is behind me, tinkering with the trailer steps. I can hear the soft clink of his tools, the occasional sigh when something refuses to line up right, and the quiet hum of his focus. He’s always been slow and steady like that, methodical, never rushing, even when it’s obvious he’s tired. The air is cool, just the right kind of cool that makes me glad I brought a sweatshirt. My breath fogs a little in front of me, and I watch it drift away, disappearing in the morning light.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Families
The Quiet Stretch
August 29th, 2025 Lately, I’ve been noticing how much more present I feel when I sit down to write like this. A few months ago, I would’ve rushed through the process, scribbling whatever came to mind just to say I had written something. Back then, it felt like another task to check off a list rather than a moment to actually sit with myself. I thought I needed to be productive even in my reflection, as if pausing was some kind of indulgence I hadn’t earned. But something has shifted since then. It’s quiet, nothing dramatic or life-altering, but steady—like the way dawn creeps over the horizon, soft and slow, bringing the world into focus without fanfare.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Journal
Invisible and Tired
August 28, 2025 I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know when I started shrinking myself down just to fit into this life I didn’t even mean to build. I used to feel like I had something to offer, like I had value, like my voice mattered. Now I feel like a shadow of that person—an echo of someone who used to dream and fight for things. I wake up every day already tired, like I’m carrying a weight that no one else can see, and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep pretending I’m fine.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Journal
A Letter for James
The rain tapped softly against the window, a gentle percussion that made the world outside feel distant, cold, and unreachable. Lily sat at her desk, the flickering candle casting long, wavering shadows across the walls of the small, cluttered room. She had been staring at the same sheet of paper for hours, her pen hovering, untouched. The words wouldn’t come—not the ones she wanted, not the ones she needed.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Confessions
Aeloria: The Light of the Crystal
In a land where the sky shifted with every mood, where mountains rose like eternal guardians, and forests whispered secrets from ages long past, there lay the kingdom of Aeloria. Magic flowed through this realm as naturally as the wind, dragons carved arcs across the clouds, and every stone thrummed with the energy of an ancient world. For centuries, the people of Aeloria had lived in harmony with magic, but even the most beautiful things are fragile, and peace can be shattered in an instant.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Writers
The Light on the Hill
There was something magical about the old house on the hill. The village knew about it, but few dared to get close. The house had stood empty for as long as anyone could remember, its windows dark and its walls weathered by time. Yet, every evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, a single light would flicker on in the top window, casting a soft glow over the entire village. It was a light that no one could explain. Mara had grown up in the village; she had heard the stories like everyone else.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Writers
The Piano in the Corner
The old piano sat in the corner of the room, a silent monument to the past, its wood scratched and chipped from decades of life lived. Dust lay thick on its once-polished surface, catching the afternoon light in muted glimmers. The brass pedals, once shining bright under the sun, were now dull and cold, their edges worn smooth by countless footsteps and hurried practice sessions. The keys, yellowed and uneven from years of wear, seemed to sigh under her touch, as if aware that their music had been forgotten for far too long. Yet today, something inside Nora drew her to it—a pull she couldn’t name, a whisper of memory and longing that made her heart ache.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Writers
Choosen Roots
Dear Mum, I wasn’t born beneath your name… Nor carried in your womb… from your flame… But somehow… somehow you saw me. Small… wild… untamed in ways I didn’t understand yet. And whispered—almost without thinking—“Yes… This is our child.” I remember, or maybe I only feel it now, the weight of that moment… the quiet certainty that I belonged somewhere… that someone had chosen me… really chosen me. The world can be loud, chaotic, and unkind, and yet, in that instant, you offered calm… You offered belonging… You provided me a home before I even knew what it meant to have one.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Families
Threads of the Heart
Dear Mum and Dad, I didn’t grow beneath your heart. There were no fluttered kicks, no tiny chart on a screen to mark my days. You missed the moment I came into being, the moment I became. You weren’t there for the cries that first made the world aware of me, the name that was whispered into the air, the first small history that belonged to me alone. And yet, somehow, still, you felt me near, a presence you could not see, a quiet knowing that only you could hold.
By Paige Madison5 months ago in Families
