I can be so hard on myself. So super hard.
I treat myself exceptionally well. And then out-of-the-blue there will be these moments of a hard clash. Like a punch from my own consciousness. The kind that is so rough, it doesn’t matter the love and sweetness that others surround me with. I am unable to hear it.
Just for that moment. I drown in this darkness.
It may not last long. But apparently long enough to make an impact. So, here I am to share this with you. To assist with the complimentary contrast of all that I expose online.
I write these pretty stories, poems and words of art to motivate, to empower you, to uplift and inspire. I love this part of me, and sometimes there’s a desire to stay there. Forever.
But life doesn’t work that way. We gotta allow some dirt under the nails, and reveal the imperfection with that same lust and transparency, as how we share the grace and beauty.
So… Here I am. Today I am fed up. Fed up with the unwanted attention I receive from men. Fed up with this perfect image that people often have of me (which somehow motivates me to keep it up). Most of all, I am fed up with this inner voice inside that continuously feels I can do better.
The only resistance I feel to sharing this publicly is getting responses that try to “fix” me. It’s like a child that cries and the parents wipe away the tears. It’s literally missing the point of what it’s truly about.
Don’t do that. Not to me, and not to anyone you wanna support.
We need to get wild and chaotic sometimes. We need to throw tantrums and feel powerful enough to be witnessed in this sincere vulnerability. We need to just feel it all – the rawness, the dirt, the nasty side of life with all the icky feelings we so desperately wanna exclude from reality.