Choosing me. No longer apologising. Standing in my power. Speaking my truth. Owning my worth. Taking up space. Compromising my values for no-one. Respecting myself before others. Honouring my boundaries. Not allowing anyone in my life who chooses not to. No longer giving away precious time and energy to those who have not earned these things. Keeping my circle small, and close. Walking in grace and mercy. Living in authenticity. Accepting my flawed, messy self. Refusing to turn back. Allowing those who want to leave, to do so. Having nothing to prove. Learning, always. Growing. Making mistakes. Rebelling against fear. Leaning into courage. No longer being who I think I should be. Unafraid of who I really am. Still healing. No more hiding. Taking risks. Burning expectations to the ground. Dancing in their ashes. Forgiving myself. Calling the word NO a complete sentence. Falling asleep drowning. Waking with poetry in my lungs. Finding joy. Laughing more. Breathing in grief. Breathing out hope. Becoming stronger, yet softer.
Learning to love the darkest places within this winter solstice woman; this complex, conflicted, complicated contradiction existing inside the cusp, ruled by the moon and pulled by the tides, forever drawn to the ocean, ever-changing, never still, living somewhere between victory and loss, loving the only way I know how; with reckless abandon.
This is 40. This is me