She wanted him to be the sunshine to her clouds. She couldn’t handle the idea that he had weather patterns of his own, and that he contained within himself the makings of a downpour and possibly even a monsoon.
Lucinda Rosenfeld, What She Saw… (via a-thousand-words)
Sometimes I love to hide, and wallow in the dark. In the dirt, in wet slippery places. In the mud is where I grow.
Sometimes I cuss, spit, howl, don’t shave my hair, and offend. And I hate bras. God how I hate them.
Gyrating my hips, they slip in and out between the dark and the light, leaving my magic sprinkled all about. That’s what I’m about. That’s what I love about myself.
I collect and preserve that which is in danger of being lost.
My truths may scare you, you may not understand and that’s okay.
Shit, they scare me too.
But I’m courageously proceeding on anyway, for you and me.
One of the most healing things you can do is recognize where in your life you are your own poison.
Steve Maraboli (via onlinecounsellingcollege)
A flower grows where a queen blooms. She planted her own garden instead of waiting for someone to bring her flowers. 🌻 @raya_sun_ shares her tattoo with us, the tattoo she chose that also chose her, to cover a scare from surgery. She decided to fill this place with a beautiful reminder of her resilience.
The stories we tell, the stories we share is healing waiting to happen for someone else. Work your magic.