There is power in believing in your own beauty.
There is beauty in believing in your own power.
I used to say: “I can’t identify with who I was in the past.”
Okay, so maybe I didn’t make the smartest decisions … and there are many moments where I couldn’t even begin to describe what the f%#* I was thinking when I did that.
But to not identify? No. I do. I was once a young girl pressured by society to conform to a standard that was unnatural.
How could I not identify with that?
I hurt myself. It’s no wonder, I broke out and went crazy.
An awakening of the soul.
I meet myself everyday.
The stubble on my arms and legs and even on my back. The texture of my curls that once used fire to straighten it… or so I thought.
I went insane trying to straighten everything out.
My nose, my hair, my hips and my flare.
The breakage opened up cracks when there were no doors. I had to slip and fall through so that I could rise.
Power arises when beauty is a rose.