“Knowing how you actually want to feel is the most potent form of clarity that you can have.” — Danielle LaPorte
i am joy. the kind that teems, like sticky honey oozing. joy that finds the beat and makes my toes tap until my whole body can’t stop the dance.
i am bold. big. bigger than you or i or he or she had ever imagined. above my tears and my goosebumps and my butterflies. bold like frida and her flower halos. bold like beyonce. i woke up like this.
i am expressive. i give birth to words, like these ones here. painful? sometimes. worth it? always. i bite my nails and let them go, a parent farewelling a child raised healthy, happy, whole.
i am worth it. gimme all you’ve got.
i am at home. a cabin in the woods. a crackling fire. a tea kettle whistling. i am at home. a wrap-around porch. summer dusk cicadas. a swingset. curled in momma’s lap, eyes heavy as lead.
i am alive. i feel it all. and fuck, it feels good.
i am enough. one big cell. i contain all that i need.