Today, I abhor the thought of right and wrong. I abhor being told what I should and shouldn’t do. I don’t even know if I like the word “abhor” but it sounds powerful, doesn’t it? and I think it’s all I’ve got left in the rebel department.
Every day, I choose what defines me. This childhood – with all its pain and promise – is part of me, but it is not me. The stain of its iniquities will not deem me unworthy nor doom me to a life of remorse and regret.
Turns out Amymarie Gaertner has MILLIONS of followers on Youtube and Vine and Instagram for her amazing freestyle dancing. She is a self-taught choreographer and dancer from Ohio.
Instead, wonder silently. Who is it that gets to decide who we criticize? Who is it that indoctrinates the young men we prepare to send into their own vicious PTSD with the belief that anyone who disagrees is the enemy?
Do good for yourself, while helping us improve maternal health. Join Jen Pastiloff over Mother's Day weekend, May 8-10th, for a 3 day retreat in Ojai, CA, where a portion of proceeds will benefit Christy Turlington's Every Mother Counts.
Identity, a combination of what you’ve done, what’s been done to you, flawed mosaic of who you are, and who others think you are. Not who you are inherently, but also who and where you came from, and what you were able to make of yourself.
I challenge you to stand in front of a mirror & tell yourself, “I love you!” and actually mean it. If you can’t muster the ability to mean it just yet, know that even in your darkest of hours, when love seems like the furthest thing from your mind, know you are loved.
Why should I be enough? Who am I enough for? Who would ever love me? Why can’t I be looked at like that, with admiration? Why do my legs touch? Why is my nose so big, my belly not as toned or my butt droopy? Don’t take my picture it might point out a new flaw. My teeth aren’t as white or straight as hers. My hair isn’t as curly; I wish it were naturally more beautiful than I wouldn’t have to try so hard. These are the things that would go through my mind- sometimes more often than not.
Grace is all around us, available to all who listen for its sound. It’s a note that finds its resonance between tentative strangers, a harmony that arises out of chaos. And it’s the brazen mockingbird, perched atop the highest limb of a pepper tree on an early springtime morning, singing its little heart out
