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anxiety and depression are my hidden gifts. they are the parts I keep for myself. the ones I give to others are the giant smiles and laughter. when you hurt under the surface, no one can see it or help you. so, it continues to grow like cancer in a way that by the time it does come about, it’s now too late.
they tell me to be grateful for the pain, that it has shown me how strong I can be. they speak of resilience. maybe I already knew that strength inside. maybe I didn’t need something so painful to show me. maybe I’d rather be the girl I was before. the one who believed in magic and happy ever afters. maybe I’d rather have that innocence back, be that small naive girl once more. maybe I’d rather base my worth off how much beauty surrounds me and not how many times I crawled back up. maybe I’d rather know the girl I could’ve been. sometimes all I think about is her
you’re having trouble sleeping tonight and back and forth to your crib, I’ve been. as I’m rocking you, I realize that all you want in the world is me and at this moment, I’m teaching you that I will always be there when you cry. you can always lay the weight of your world down on my chest. I close my eyes and breathe you in deep. you won’t always smell this way. you won’t always call for me in the middle of the night. there will come a time when you won’t even be sleeping in my house any longer. once these moments are gone, they’re gone forever and no amount of bargaining will bring them back.
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who I thought I was is such a far cry from who I really am- and once I honored her, I shed the people who really didn’t love me like a second skin I never knew I didn’t need.
the bad thing about experience is you have to first get burned to learn that fire is hot. you have to sometimes be touched in all the wrong ways to discover how you’re supposed to be loved. and you only can truly grasp the depth of pain that you’ve caused once it has come full circle back to you.
it turns out, the only validation I needed was from myself. once I realized I am an acquired taste but still a good woman still worthy and true love is without conditions.
when you finally find your voice, not everyone will like it and some may not stay. your voice will draw lines in the sand and those lines will create boundaries. those boundaries will end up protecting you from the people who benefitted from you having none. never lower your voice again
I was made to break wide open so that others could look through the cracks on my body and find the faces of all the women that I carry with me, the ones that fought hard to become the woman that they are today, the ones who never gave in and the ones who loved to the bitter end. hear their voices echoing through my words. I was meant to bleed for them so not one of their heartbreaks were ever in vain.