I think maybe vulnerability is handing someone a knife and being hopeful that they won’t use it, but understanding that they might, and that you’re willingly taking the risk of being stabbed.

immerse yourself in accomplishment and discovery, fill those spaces that run empty, create the haven you seek.

question what makes you think, what causes you to judge, label, categorize; ask yourself whose beliefs they are, yours or just the ones you learned and never questioned. explore the difficult uncomfortable stuff.

kind and honest conversations that create the space for difficult truths without killing spirits or paralyzing hearts

the only real life we have is the one we live day to day, not the imagining in our minds, or the years ahead. and still, knowing this, we swallow daydreams as thick as viscous lidocaine, numbing our very essence, and dreaming of someday.

I never bought into balance, until i realized I’d spent my entire life trying to do it for everyone else, and that the scales were real, and mine was terribly weighted.

they're all lessons. even the ones that you uncertain and raw.

every year teaches us something; the last two have taught me that sometimes pain serves, other times it severs.

i'm a pessimist because I know that most people are out for themselves and would leave you waiting on the side of an unknown road than accept responsibility for their actions.

it’s weird how my brain gets really numb sometimes, and I can’t think of anything else to say because I just don’t want to speak for days.

I spent years in deep reflection, analyzing my desire to have a hand to hold onto, only to realize i already had one, attached to my other arm.

maybe some of us would just like people to hold themselves accountable, to apologize when they've hurt us, and to recognize that nothing is one-sided.

shame is a powerfully motivating emotion, keeping us silent, our shadow-self even further withdrawn, but it can also be a catalyst, gently pulling us along and reminding us we’re worthy, while serving a lesson.

you were told you were getting more than most so you should feel special, except you weren’t really getting much more than almost nothing.

people lose themselves in people then have no clue what kind of a person they are because they’re not themselves anymore, instead an amalgamation of someone else’s someone.

it seems that I am at my saddest when I allow hope to rise inside of me. like helium,  already lacking a positive charge.

thinking it was Thursday and one day closer to working on becoming a recluse, only to find it's this day, and then another, and another, and another.

I've always known who I was, separate from others, accepting of it, learning how to hide those sides of myself to adapt. Life changed, and with time's passing I grew more and more comfortable with my own duality. I am grateful to have a sparse space to share my voice.

i’m grateful for my plants, the stacks and stacks of books that hold me captive, the scent of a warm candle and hot coffee, twinkle lights, geometric art, my intuition, grace, forgiveness, and love.

the key might be to expect nothing, ever. that way it’s all surprise, the joy, the sadness, the breaking and recovering, all unscripted and holistically experienced.

being myself doesn't take much effort. it's being myself around others that consumes all of my energy, watching them shift and justify their discomfort.