Every time I look at myself I see a woman painted by others opinion. An opinion that distorts the perception of the very canvas I call my own. An opinion that's akin to a bed of milkweeds, each criticism acts like a striped caterpillar, eating away the greens to their hearts content until left a fragile stem of self worth, exposed to the harsh environments I call insecurity.
But as the narrator of my own, I will strive and overturn these insecurities into resilience, and turn these caterpillars into my very own Monarch Butterflies.
Found these in my notes... Translated for Miss A.C
