We grow as people when we experience things. Not allowing ourselves to feel, to work through the details of ourselves, that isn’t strength at all, that’s avoidance.
All The Feels
I sit down to write an essay and I delete every word. My brain has been a trash bag lately.
Sometimes it feels lonely. It feels like you’re the only one who sees the light at the end of the tunnel, what lies on the other side, the magic that could happen if everything goes right.
No matter how much she accomplishes in life, no matter how much love she gives, she keeps pushing herself further. She wants to do more. To be more. Because she knows she’s capable of more.
It’s learning every day that you can survive anywhere, but you can only truly live at home.
I just want to feel like it is okay for me to be the person I am and not someone else. And I want you to feel like it is okay for you to be you, too.
It’s like your hand getting stuck in the subway door when you think you have enough time to save yourself but you’re just too late.
The strange and beautiful thing about the human condition is that everyone needs someone, and there’s someone out there who is looking for someone just like you.
Sometimes pretending hurts.
I’m trying to learn the kind of brave you taught me – pulling down the gates, letting go of control, trusting people aren’t growing weeds of lies when they’re sleeping in my bed.