See, I am not ashamed that I have a type. I have loved and I have lost enough to know that I deserve more than what I have settled for. I have grown, have pulled knowledge out of my brokenness, have truly taken a look at what I want, and what I need, and I refuse to accept anything less than that.
It is difficult to move on. It breaks you down in ways you never expected to be broken before. But when this happens, do not fear the rebuilding. Do not lament the pieces of yourself that you have lost, the pieces of yourself that were left over.
It is the worry that comes with knowing that we live in a generation that is oversaturated with options, that people can leave for the next best thing when something shinier and newer comes along. You see it happen all the time.
2017 is the year to prove to the world that you have every reason to be in it — that you are allowed to take up space. It is the year you finally accept that you are the only person who defines your value in life, that you are the only person who defines your worth.
You have fallen and you have risen time and time again; you are the living, breathing fragments of your triumphs and your tragedies, stitched together through hurt and hope, and you still shine. You still shine.
I know things seem hard right now. You don’t shine like the other girls, your heart is loud but you keep it quiet. You feel like you’re living on the edge of something incredible, something vast and life changing, but you’re just one step behind, just an inch out of reach.
We crave the ability to be who we are — the over thinking, daydreaming, messy hearted human beings who have the loudest worlds tucked beneath their skin.
Thank you for bringing joy to my life. For making me laugh so hard I’ve had coffee come out of my nostrils, for all of our inside jokes and all of those monumental mistakes we look back on and smile about.
You have to come to terms with the fact that you let them leave with so many pieces of you. You have to forgive yourself for loving yourself thin, for forgetting about the things you wanted to do because you were so busy trying to save someone who didn’t want to be saved.
You learned how to determine the square root of sixteen, but you still can’t figure out a way to get to the root of who you are without them. You can sit through a whole lecture on the physics and anatomy of the body, but you can’t figure out how to get your heart out of your throat, how to calm the rush, rush, rushing of the blood in your veins whenever you hear their name.