-- REFORGED

Ghost going on hiatus hit me harder than I expected.

Not because I have some obsessive need to see Tobias Forge’s dumb, cute face (though I do enjoy seeing it). He’s not disappearing forever, or dying. The music didn’t evaporate. The records are still there. He’s still creating, just in different ways. And honestly, it’s good that he’s taking time for himself.

That part is all positive.

What caught me off guard wasn’t the hiatus itself. It was what he said about it.

Sometimes your spark fades.
Sometimes you need to step back and do something else.
Sometimes you get the feeling you’re needed elsewhere for a while.

When I heard him say that, something in me went very still.

I have never met Tobias Forge. But part of being human is recognizing yourself in someone else’s truth. What unsettled me wasn’t giddy, fannish admiration - it was recognition. He could have been talking about me.

For the past year and a half, I’ve been running on fumes.

Anxiety keeping me in fight-or-flight mode.
The pressure not to lose momentum.
The fear that if I stop, everything I built will collapse.
And underneath it all, the gnawing sense that there may be more for me to conquer elsewhere.

I’ve carried a lot. I’ve spoken up. I’ve raised my voice against the steady march of fascism. I’ve posted daily. I’ve built a following. I’ve committed to saying something meaningful.

And I don’t let anyone diminish that. It takes discipline, conviction, and vulnerability to show up every day and ask people to listen. Especially in this niche.

But showing up every day in this space means facing the worst of humanity every day. New horrors. New anger. New cruelty. It accumulates.

There comes a point where the spirit is still willing, but the mind slams on the brakes.

And when that happens, powering through isn’t noble - it’s dangerous. Because the things you once loved? The projects that gave you joy? The parts of yourself that felt creative and alive?

You don’t gently set them down.

You skid past them.

Too fast to completely stop.
Too tired to care.

When Tobias described himself as a builder who ran out of tiles, I felt that in my bones. Desire isn’t enough if you’re empty. If you keep forcing output when there’s nothing left in the tank, it starts to feel contrived. Hollow. Mechanical.

I don’t want that for myself.

Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is step back and see if silence brings something new.

Maybe I need that too.

Not disappearing. Not surrendering. Just… adjusting. Maybe not posting every day. Maybe every other day. Maybe once a week. Maybe committing more to other things. Still keeping in touch with people. Like him, I won’t be gone forever. I’d just be refilling a cup long emptied by burnout and anxiety.

Finding myself again.
Connecting with life beyond the curated version of me I let people see.
Maybe sharing more of that life - my cats, the small moments, the quieter pieces of my voice.

Rest doesn’t mean surrender. Stepping back doesn’t mean abandoning the fight. It might mean learning how to fight differently. Or later. With renewed strength instead of resentment.

Maybe the spark doesn’t die.

Maybe it just needs oxygen.

I have ideas. Other projects. Things I put away when everything fell apart. Coming back to them is going to feel good. And if my momentum never comes back? I'm okay with that, too.

I don’t know Tobias Forge. We may never meet. But if we ever do - and life has surprised me before - I would shake his hand and thank him.

Not just for the music.

But for saying the quiet part out loud.

For cracking open the wall I’d built in my own mind.

And for reminding me that sometimes, the bravest thing a creator can do… is pause.

Take care of yourselves. You can always reach me at cristina@undevoted.org or on Instagram DMs. I'll be updating undevoted.org more in the coming days and months with new projects. I'd love to see you here.