#vulnerbility

This poem captures the tension between concealment and exposure, between self-preservation and the aching desire to be truly seen. The imagery of clothing as a fragile disguise for emotional wounds is powerful, reinforcing the theme of vulnerability. Each tear in the fabric signals an unraveling of the facade, revealing the parts of oneself that are feared, yet impossible to fully hide.

I’ve never been the top of my class, but I’ve never been dumb. Never the sidekick, but never the leader either.

I’ve been noticed, but never seen.

I’ve had friends, but never a best friend. People to laugh with, but no one to cry to.

I’ve always had the passion to do something big, but what if I don’t have the talent?

I’ve always wanted to change the world, but what if I don’t have the voice?

Ok, let’s see where we left off… I haven’t done this in months — June to be exact. And while I want to laugh about it, the truth is…it’s not really funny. It’s actually a little sad, because I fell right back into a pattern I’ve been trying hard to break. But is that really so bad? Maybe not. Because even though I slipped, life has definitely been “lifeing” since the last time I had a chance to…

“I am deliberate and afraid of nothing.” — Audre Lorde It’s 5:41 in the morning. I’m sitting here with my joint, listening to the birds sing while my heart feels heavier than I know how to hold.Heavy for a love I’ve never fully touched.Heavy for a happiness I’m starting to believe I may never have. And I ask myself—why is this feeling hitting so hard? Am I truly afraid that I’ll spend the rest…

“Sometimes slowing down is the most radical way to move forward.” I’ve been slacking on my blog posts — two weeks behind to be exact. And honestly? I’ve been in a fog. Not just mentally, but physically and emotionally. I haven’t prepped meals, barely had the energy to read, study, or even think straight. Work has been nonstop. This last 80-hour tour? Whew. Busy doesn’t even begin to describe it.…

I haven’t written much about being a mother. Not really. It’s not because I don’t want to—it’s because I’ve been scared. Scared of judgment. Scared of being seen in a light I’m still trying to accept within myself. The truth is, I’m not where I want to be in life. But does that automatically make me a bad mom? I ask myself that more often than I’d like to admit. Motherhood doesn’t come with a…