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we would have better lives than the ones our parents had shown us. We would find people to love with care. We’d never become bitter and stubborn as we got older. We’d be happy in our relationships.
No one could ever judge me too harshly if I judged myself harder and louder than they’d ever dare.
It made me feel like I was fragile and worth protecting.
“You’re always welcome wherever I am.” My heart ached harder. As if little construction workers lived in there and they’d started building something new without a permit.
There was so much I felt like I’d missed in life. I had so few opportunities to test those kinds of boundaries as a kid because I was trying to survive instead.
No matter how old I got, I could always find new ways to be young again.
And I hadn’t let myself hold space for it, because I’d been so obsessed with ticking off boxes for the life I thought I needed to have that I didn’t pay much attention to the life I wanted to have.
I’d always thought I needed to earn my place in order to be accepted. Turned out, existing was the only thing required in earning my authentic life.
“The older you get, the more you realize there’s a damn good reason to be afraid of just about every single thing in life. So you might as well do it all, because the fear sure doesn’t care either way.”
“I think that the floorboard outside our cabin got loose because the earth shifted when I saw you.”
In a way, my old habit of romanticizing life was one of the only kindnesses I’d granted myself, because it was the only time I allowed myself to believe I deserved a love full of care.
I’m so afraid to be right or wrong with all my choices that I don’t end up making any.
The best gift you can give yourself is permission to keep figuring shit out, no matter how messy it is. You can be a different you tomorrow. You can also own the person you are today. You don’t have to hide away because you might one day change.”
What was love if not holding someone else’s hand through their chosen journeys?
