2018.

The year I hurt.
I hurt and I suffered.
I suffered and I cried.
I cried and I cried.
I cried with him, I cried beside him, I cried away from him.

2018.

The year I got help.
I spoke and I opened up.
Like a flower wanting to bloom, but who has been without sunlight.
I opened and I blossomed.
I blossomed and I stood tall.
A wildflower.

2018.

The year I stopped.
I stopped and I looked.
I looked and I exhaled.
I exhaled and I smiled…
I listened to myself, I trusted myself and I believed in myself.
I fiercely appreciated beauty in nature, friendships, my school kids.

2018.

The year I chose kind.
You have to fit your own air mask before assisting others.
Some might call that selfish.
But I learnt that if you’re not kind to self, how can you have the capacity to be kind to others?
I’m kinder now than I’ve ever been.
I choose kind even when it would be easier to runaway.
I choose kind even though not everybody is kind back.
I choose kind in a world that has proven to be anything but.

2018.

The year I explored.
I traveled and I grew independent.
I grew to enjoy my own company and to accept challenges.
I stumbled, and I rose.
I rose, and I rose.
How could she?, When really, people should be asking, Why did she need to?
Be curious, not judgmental.

“When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower” – Alexander Den Heijer

2018.

I bloomed.

I had to.