Self Love

  • The Song Of You

    To be brave is to know there is hope. And to know there is hope is to know that dreams can come true— as long as you remember to dream them. Wish with all your heart, little girl. Fly your longing into… Continue reading

  • Just The Way That I Am

    I was sitting on a public toilet, talking to an invisible person in my mind. It didn’t occur to me to think it strange. It was about eight months into this new woo woo phase of my life—the one where,… Continue reading

  • Permission to Breathe

    For the girl who is miserable: No. You are not the only one.   For the boy who is angry: No. You are not broken.   For the human that tries so hard to be a version of perfect that… Continue reading

  • Gentle

    I try to be gentle with the girl inside me. She is imperfect. She hurts, and she hurts others as she tries her best to be. She thinks and she thinks, and she doesn’t think enough until something in the air… Continue reading

  • She Will Be Love

    Every day, she will be love.   Continue reading

  • Fly

    Beautiful, soft heart of mine. I will play your every beat into the world proudly, openly, completely. Let them stomp together through the mud of their island. We, dear heart, dear sweet, dear love. We shall fly to the moon. Continue reading

  • Worthy

    We don’t have to convince the world that we are worthy of their love hearts. We only have to convince ourselves that we are worthy of our own. Continue reading

  • The Stars Inside

    The human might do well to remember that the body is an instrument which can only be played perfectly by the stars that live inside of it.     Continue reading

  • Everything I need

    I close my eyes to the world and then there is only me. When there is only me I can feel. I can see. I can know everything I need to know. And when I need to know more— I close… Continue reading

  • Beautiful

    A face in the mirror; a gentle head tilt; a naked, swan neck. Her fingers find the soft of her collar bone and drift upward: chin, cheek, forehead— every part of her, delicate. Like a bird, she thinks. The mirror… Continue reading