Self-Care Days

Every day should be a self-care day.
We get so busy.
We forget that our hearts and souls need rest.
We forget to stop and breathe.
To delight in the little things.

Sunshine.
Friendship.
Nature.
Small, unexpected surprises.
Pets and people who love unconditionally.

We forget to hurt and to heal.
To let ourselves feel and process and think.
To allow ourselves to give up and to begin again.
To simply be okay with our existence in this universe,
With the chaotic craziness of it all.
With change, and loss, and new realities.

Always remembering grace.
Always reminding ourselves
That love is fuel,
And we burn brighter and stronger
When we pour into ourselves and in each other.

Exposed

I've always said being open and vulnerable is the only way to be. In a sense, I think it's the only way I know how to be. Apart from my constant persistence at hiding, a part of me wants to be exposed. I feel that exposing yourself forces you to face who you are - and with that comes acceptance. And with acceptance comes healing. At least, that is my hope. Perhaps there is someone out there in a world beyond my immediate reach who is searching for affirmation to know they are not alone. That their struggle is important. That there is hope. And commonality. Even if it's from a post by someone they've never met.

I am tired of wondering if certain people will get offended by certain things. Of worrying if I've said too much. Of hiding who I am. I'm tired of stigmas, judgments, and molds that I refuse to fit into. I'm tired of the pressure to keep myself in a neat little package so I look pretty to everyone. Maybe if we all started being honest about ourselves, it wouldn't be such a radical occasion? Shouldn't honesty be what sets us apart? Shouldn't that be worth something?

I want to be real. I want my art to be real. I would rather sit in silence than censor myself. And if you're out there reading this - I challenge you to be bold with me. Let your voice be heard. Be free. Be yourself. There's no one else like you. Some of us may be broken, scarred, jaded, and complete wrecks at times. But you're still you. I'm still me. No one else can be us. We are beautiful and loved and unique. Knowing that, we should all be fighting like hell to embrace ourselves.

Facing Tomorrow

We are all flawed, imperfect, broken creatures.
You worry that your honesty about your struggles will scare someone away – that removing your mask and exposing your vulnerabilities and the things that aren’t so pretty or shiny will be too much for someone to hear, or to bear.
Hard subjects are frightening to those who refuse to be open.
Some people will be your friend for a lifetime.
Others, for a moment. 
And some will leave, and you will always wonder why.
But you can't doubt yourself.
You can't beat yourself up.
You can’t hide yourself away or struggle alone.
Community is found in vulnerability.
Writing, speaking, and sharing your story helps you heal and brings hope to those who are struggling just like you are. 
Just as the sun sets each day, it rises – and with it, comes hope.
And sometimes hope is all you need to face another tomorrow.

Letting Go

Who can be the judge of individual loss? And the weight it has on you? Maybe your loss seems inconsequential to others, but to you, it's a part of your world gone missing, sometimes for good. And no one can really judge the impact that has on you. So allow yourself to think, to feel, to cry – at least for a little while.

The hard part about letting go is the emptiness you feel when you do – the feeling of losing your grasp on everything you felt was so real and vital in your life. In the aftermath, you may find yourself lost, without strength to even leave your bed. But that's ok.  Because you will need time to just lie there and let the pain seep in – to let the sadness and emptiness wash over you. That's all part of the process. Don’t be in a hurry to find your feet – you will, eventually.

In a way, I think you always knew that a small part of you needed to go, to break free and move forward. But sometimes, the thing you have to break free from is the very thing you held so dear. Perhaps it’s the only thing you've ever known, or the only thing you’ve ever hoped for. You don't want to let go; but at the same time, you know you have no choice. Leaving isn't always an act of selfishness. Sometimes it's just self-preservation, knowing that the best thing for yourself and for the situation is for you to let go. And to be let go of. Except that underneath that knowledge, the truth is that all you really want to do is stay. So you say, “Let me go.” But you feel, “Don't let me go.”

And that's the brilliant sadness in it.