As a child, I was certain I was born a hippie. Flower child. Ask anyone who knows me. Who remembers how I always ended my messages with βnamasteβ because I truly genuinely saw the good in everybody. I still do.
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As I got older, I traded in my beads for a pantsuit at 22. I stopped drinking βherbal teaβ when my ex boyfriend and his corporate friend put me onto my first peppermint mocha. I became a Queen. It was a persona at first, fueled by the reality that I thought a hippie would be carefree and honey. Thatβs not me. Too much anxiety, too much intuition. My grandparents would always say I act like I know everything. .
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I donβt know a lot and the fear of the unknown is petrifying but I do know this. At 27, whether I know you or not, I address you as royalty. I say namaste when I end my long paragraphs. Maybe itβs not me that senses my death this year, but that little girl inside of me who was certain I would become some fake Prince. Hell, you know even Prince has some shade and some honesty. The dreamer in me, that free loving girl has grown older, bolder, and more aware that everyone doesnβt need someone to crown them. Some come into it by means of circumstance, some come into it by means of determination, healing and growth. .
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I struggle with it a lot but I still do see the good in myself. I constantly want to share it with you. I see the good in you. It your turn to acknowledge it.
amandla
jacobvanloon
kianamaiart
gummygunk
andulkaphoto
titsay
