Thinking about the time I got lost inside the duvet cover while trying to match up the corners and my cats all thought I was playing a game and started beating the sh*t out of me.
I DO NOT care who got an apartment before me, got their licence before me, a car before me, got a degree before me. I don’t care what it is, ANYTHING BEFORE ME. That’s your time, not mine. And trust me, my time is going to come for whatever it is.
When a woman has healed, you’ll know, because the only man she will make room for is the one who was willing to lay down his ego, face his fears, and let go of his unhealthy patterns so that he could be a safe place for her heart.
@Meetrichy1 🤣nah, they gonna dog pile on you, tea will be popping hottt at your funeral. Go ahead, fuck em, stay alive a lil longer and do what you want
Perhaps this year isn't about becoming anything at all. Maybe instead, it's about slowly unbecoming all the things which no longer align with you, and finding peace in the quiet return to your authentic self.
My cancer support group leader once said something I'll never forget:
"Pay attention to who gets impatient with your healing."
At the time, I thought she was talking about recovery timelines.
She wasn't.
She was talking about people.
The friends who disappear when you're no longer fun.
The relatives who stop calling when the crisis becomes routine.
The partners who support you as long as it earns admiration from other people.
My husband was incredible during the dramatic parts.
Hospital visits. Fundraisers. Public support.
Everyone thought he was a saint.
But real character isn't revealed during the moments everyone sees.
It's revealed six months later.
When you're exhausted.
When nobody is watching.
When the applause is gone.
That's when he started leaving emotionally.
Not all at once.
Just little pieces at a time.