Self acceptance

  • Imperfect

    I’ve felt a deep need to write. And though my eyes are heavy and my shoulders are slumped… I’m here, on the couch, with you. I’ve been warring with a part of myself that is imperfect, of late. Sweet good… Continue reading

  • It Was The Book That Changed Me. Now, I Don’t Know How to Feel.

    I was transfixed, sitting inside the magical world it had taken me to. My teacher had read it perfectly, every line was an invitation, every word was so beautiful I could have listened to her all day. The book was… Continue reading

  • Beautiful

    But isn’t it entirely beautiful to be you. Continue reading

  • Let It Become

    It is a softness that wanders the fields with me. Everywhere I go, it is there, sending me off on my uncertain way. Sometimes, I feel like a small bird, left to battle the raging storms of life. I do… Continue reading

  • Beautiful

    Let me tell you how the small things you do are beautiful. Let me show you this mirror, let you reach for it in wonder. This shine belongs to you, do you see? Do you see? Yes, you see. Continue reading

  • Moon Unconditional

    ‘Sun?’ ‘Yes, Moon?’ said Sun as he fell into the evening sky. ‘I shine every night. I brighten the humans’ world. Why do they not love me?’ ‘Moon?’ ‘Yes, Sun?’ ‘You have a chip in your tooth.’ ‘Do I?! Oh,… Continue reading

  • Glimmer

    Beautiful are the moments where I remember you are you, and I am me. Perfectly. Beautiful are the mornings the sun shines on cobwebby thoughts and there I see the glimmer of truth. How beautiful you are. How beautiful I… Continue reading

  • Waves

    I have lived on this earth with them, but not apart of them. It is a story I have not written. I, ( whoever ‘I’ is ) would not write a story such as this. I am them and they… Continue reading

  • One Small Me

    If I am not her, that good and lovely girl in a box, who am I? Now that this body is alive with the energy of all of life, who am I? I believe this, but I believe the opposite… Continue reading

  • Life Is For Living

    Life is for living. It’s a lovely sentiment, isn’t it? Lovely. And vague. Because what, exactly, is living? I turned thirty-eight this year, and I’m still fine tuning what living means to me. I imagine I always will be. Ever… Continue reading