More Self Love.

i feel like even if i spend my whole life crying it will still not be enough to get out the grief that i have in my heart

“Whatever you do, never run back to what broke you.”

“As fall approaches, I get ready for the trees to teach me the art of letting go.”

“The world is going to tell you that what you set out to do is impossible. The world is going to point at your past mistakes and say it doesn’t matter what God calls you to do, you cannot do it. The world is going to say that you can’t but God says that you can. And when the world says you aren’t worth it then they are saying that the cross was a mistake. You can do absolutely anything that God has called you to do because he will empower you and he will equip you. So when he puts those things on your heart and he says go and do them, go and do them. You have one shot at this life, don’t waste your life”

The trauma did not make us stronger. We made ourselves stronger by adapting, by growing, by choosing..second after second.. to keep going.

“I like being alone. Therefore, in order to win me over, your presence has to feel better than my solitude.”

I think the problem is that we depend on our lovers to love us the way we should love ourselves

“We are not what people do to us.”

“Kill the part of you that believes it can’t survive without someone else.”

“When feeling overwhelmed by a faraway goal, repeat the following: I have it within me right now to get me to where I want to be later.”

“Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your soul. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.”

“The sound an animal makes when it knows it has lost to the hunter. The way a fish looks at the fisherman as it gasps its last breath. The image of terrified birds escaping a forest being eaten by flames. It is like hanging on to the edge of the world and knowing no one can rescue you but yourself. Don’t call it rape because that is too easy, too palatable for what it is. Call it the sickening sound of an arrow wedging itself into the skin of a dying wild thing. Call it the final breath drawn by a fish before a knife slices into its belly. Call it the loss of a child to a mother bird that could not save it from the flames. Call it hanging onto the edge of the world, and feeling your fingers one by one… slip off the ledge.”