I am not from here

There are people who belong immediately: they fit into rooms, conversations, family photos. Then there are those of us who move through the world like visitors — feeling slightly misplaced, quietly holding wounds that never quite healed, and carrying a deep, steady love that others don't always know how to receive.

I Am Not From Here is Atlas's tender, unguarded conversation — pages written like notes passed across a dim room. This book collects bedside confessions, short meditations, and honest reflections that move between memory and prayer, grief and stubborn hope. It is a book for the sensitive, the soft, and the brave: anyone who has ever felt "too much" or out of step with the rest of the world.

Inside you will find chapters that map a life lived in half-light: the ache of growing up without the kind of love that heals; the ways we learn to protect our hearts; the decision to keep giving even when you are taken for granted; and the simple, radical choice to keep choosing love. Atlas writes about near-goodbyes that reveal what it means to stay, about learning to accept care instead of only offering it, and about the strange, quiet blessings that come from surviving.

This is not instruction or sermon. It is witness. The voice here is plain and faithful — sometimes poetic, often conversational — and always close. You will find brief prayers that steady a restless night, meditations on boundaries that protect a fragile self, and small stories that make enormous feelings recognisable. The book looks directly at loss, loneliness, and the heavy business of carrying other people's needs, yet it is never bleak; tenderness and a stubborn belief in goodness thread through every page.

Who this book is for:

•The person who has loved too hard and wants permission to be soft.
•The reader who carries memories that do not soothe easily and needs words that understand.
•Anyone searching for a small light to hold on difficult mornings.

What you'll take away:

•A companion for long nights and slow mornings — words that meet you exactly where you are.
•Practical tenderness: short reflections on protecting yourself, asking for what you need, and receiving love without apology.
•A reminder that being different does not mean being less, and that softness is not weakness.

Raw but gentle, brief but deep, I Am Not From Here will make you feel seen. It will make you pause, it may make you cry, and it may unexpectedly guide you toward small, real peace. Keep this book on your bedside table for the nights you need a voice that sits quietly with you.

—Atlas