“I look around and see all the beauty that is possible – all the beauty we can make. Together.”

I am slowly finding my way back into my skin. Or maybe that’s not it. I am growing into a new skin with knowledge and time.

A year ago everything started to change. I didn’t think I could come out on the other side. The view is fine. I’m fine. Better now.

Without authenticity you are nothing.

It’s possible to be all the parts of you that live in your heart, brain, and body. Not divided into containers. A giant messy wait of authenticity. Where you are all the things. All the time.

When you come calling I’ll answer. But I know I have to keep a piece of my heart just for me.

You are the only one I can truly count on.

I have decided that the key to happiness is strong communication.

I breathe better now. I thought I wouldn’t or couldn’t. But I was wrong. Isn’t that how it is with these things.

No. I can’t pretend that everything is the way it was. Even though that’s what we do- move on like everything is okay.

I cannot face another moment of inauthenticity. Not one more day. Saying no to the things that make me uncomfortable in my skin.

A low hum. Vibration when it hits the skin. An image. Permanent art. But the most satisfying part is- the decisive-ness. Decision made.

When I am broken you don’t try to fix me. You listen. You are there. Thankyou.

If you think this one is about you- it probably is.

We only see what we want to see. Usually it is ourselves. Look closer. Tilt the mirror so you can see more. Beyond self.

We say so much with our words unsaid. There is truth in the silence.

Holding on to something that has lost its magic, lost its mutual respect, hurts more. Elsa understood the assignment.

I saw beautiful things when I met you.

Fortunately the sky is beautiful everywhere.

Everything which originates from pure love is lit with the radiance of beauty.

Teach young girls that their beauty is only a fraction of who they are.

If beauty is truth, why don’t women go to the library to have their hair done?

But what if we took it one step further and made an effort to actually transform our pain into something beautiful? What if we went full out and made an effort to transform other people’s pain into something beautiful?

The eyes of a woman who never cried can not be beautiful.

Broken glass taught me there is something so beautiful in shattering.