my sense of self.

i know it’s hard to find yourself, wondering how we all got lost in the first place. it usually starts with that first encounter with a stranger that points out your deepest insecurity without knowing. there you find every misleading thing you have ever thought of yourself, confirmed by someone that has never met your soul. most of us don’t know who we are because other people are set on telling us for us. and we let them.

when i discovered that most people are fucked up, most people are hurting, most people are confused; I was forced to surrender to look inside of myself. i found that my uncertainty of who i was came from other people’s shame of themselves. humans are so influenced by other humans, even though we live in a world that has produced many resources for us to be inspired by. but there’s some sort of perfection that we go searching for in other people that we feel we are lacking.

it’s more important to be yourself and to know yourself. i know that i’m a woman who cries when she’s both happy and sad and that’s okay. i know that it radiates my ability to feel and feel it all so deeply. i know that i give out more no’s than yes’s because i have a choice to not do things that don’t serve me. i know that love is of the utmost value to me and is ultimately why i wake up every morning. i know the inevitability of change and my excitement of seeing it all go from bad to good; over and over.

being aware of your sense of self simply relies on you making yourself your refuge. running to you first before anyone else builds an unworldly trust with yourself that will always bring you closer to respect, a strong intuition, and an eternal best-friend.