I’ve met too many men who loved
my surface but feared my depth.
I’m a crazy, chaotic maelstrom of
laughter and warmth, happiness and
nostalgia. I’m a hurricane of feelings
and words, twisted and entwined in
one sweep of existence. I’ve accepted
my soul’s truth and complexity
and I won’t apologize for it.
#bemymuse 22 23 24
Acceptance as requested by @lipstickandmiracles
Soul as requested by @whitepurplezainu
Truth ad requested by @sepinfinity
For a while now, I have always thought of getting old as some horrific monster threatening to strangle the life out of me. Although people around me don’t really say it, I’ve felt this incredible pressure to fit into the same social construct that generations of women before me have traditionally fit into with ease: that of a wife and a mother. Every year, I give myself a self-imposed deadline to accomplish this feat.
But over the years, I can honestly say that not only do I no longer give a single fuck about anyone’s social constructs, I’ve cared less and less about his and her towels, bridal gowns, or the expiration date of my ovaries.
What I do care about is loving well and being loved, waking up to a job that excites and fulfills me, having enough down time to do the things that are important to me, and surrounding myself with enough people, music, art, and poetry to feed my soul.
I’ve decided that there is no room in my life for abstract concepts, so I’ve learned to let them go.
𝐻𝑒𝓇𝑒’𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒸𝒶𝓀𝑒 🍻 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒷𝒾𝓇𝓉𝒽𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝑒!
Everyday, I’m going to do something good for me.
Yesterday, being hardened was brave.
Today, opening my fingers is fearless.
Tomorrow, I hope soft can be just as
courageous.
You are whichever wolf you feed.
Because sadness was a glutton,
her love and her kindness,
her gratitude and her hope,
they’re all starving, all withered.
She has paid enough tribute to sadness.
So she holds up her hands to the wolf
that would be joy, if she let it, and
offered what’s left of her heart.
As sadness silently salivates,
she walks with head held high,
determined to break ground.
for she is walking with wolves.
*Her hands
For #bymewombchallenge hosted by @bymewomb
*Break ground
For #juneinspiration hosted by the lovely @alura_inspires and I
You point out the curve of your stomach
and the ripple of your thighs, as if
these are flaws you need to hide,
when you look in the mirror
and see not good enough, please
remember that I see strong
hands, stronger willpower,
resilient heart, easy laughter,
kind eyes, fast wit. You are
delicate and wild, insane and
unpredictable. Accept your
complexity and depth and don’t
apologize for it. You are every
inch of the reason I count myself
so damn lucky to be a woman.
It should be okay to tell someone how you are, when they ask. The weight of their hand over yours should not feel like a ton. It should be okay for you to not be strong all the time. You should not have to answer “fine”, when you’re not.
It’s ok not to be a rose. You may not be the pretty one or the crowd favorite, but that’s because you’re one of the wild ones. You blossom and grow in unexpected proportions. And when people finally notice you, they won’t recognize you or know your name, but damn they will feel you. They will fall in love with your uniqueness and finally see the beautiful ambiguity that you are.
Continue reading “Identity”
You will learn that the most important conversations
are the ones you have with yourself.
You spend years reciting to yourself
all the things you hate about you.
Then suddenly, someone walks into
Continue reading “Sabotage”
I am no number,
you could measure.
I am no zero, no ten,
Continue reading “Measure”
