your
| I don’t have to hold all my shit together I can still love me when I fall apart When I’m a mess And maybe it isn’t as messy as I feared And if I can love me Others can too But I have to let them in Let them see Me Not the curated version of me (striving for perfectionism) The raw, real me The one that cries: messy ugly cries to move forward in life Sometimes I know why I’m crying And other times the feelings are there without any cognizant reason And I must surrender to them Move them through Maybe they’re mine Maybe they’re ancestral or karmic The only way is through And oh god do I have a fear and deep, deep anxiety around crying in front of people It taps into my deepest wound around everyone abandoning me because I’m not enough Kinda a hilarious wound for someone who grew up (and still hears it today) being told I’m “too much” if I think about it Don’t deny yourself Don’t deny your power Lean in to your “too muchness” Be the you that lights you the fuck up and makes you excited to be YOU You’re with you all your life People will think whatever they will about you anyway Nothing we can do to control that even it we sometimes like to deceive ourselves that we can You might as well be YOUR favorite you And if you need a spiritual care bear guide and non-binary cheerleader |
| Where you can fall apart as messy as you need Remember and reclaim who the fuck you are Reform into the most YOU butterfly/moth you’ve ever been 🙌🌈🦋✨ You don’t have to goo it alone |
