What My Mother Taught Me About Strength
When I was younger, I would firmly protest to never become like my mother.
When I was younger, I would firmly protest to never become like my mother.
We hear about it. Read about it. Sing about it. Feel about it. But do we really know anything about it?
I am familiar with this kind of dedication because he so generously emulates it to every one of his beloveds; including me.
‘Tis the season to be fashionably warm!
I am not beautiful, I am me. And you, are you — distinctive and damn proud of it. Please know that this is enough. In fact, it’s more than just enough. It’s more than most of us are.
Just chill. It’s a relationship, not a rat race.
You all know exactly what I’m talking about: the endless rants about how great our boyfriends/girlfriends are followed by a hate post, family drama, or just a miscellaneous post defending ones’ values. As if we have to defend ourselves at all.
The life and history that flares through the less mainstream places will gift you an evangelical zeal that will never be forgotten.
Some habits and mistakes are indeed better off dead; especially those that come with new wounds, that almost always come in the same shape and colors as old ones. However, I do believe there are some things we just need to learn over, and over, and over again.