N T S • F R N

“You have always been loved. Since before you could remember, from before your first breath. You had a mother who loved you enough to die for you and a mother who loved you enough to live for you, and those are both feats of equal worth.”

God I spent so long, really my entire adolescence and adult life being afraid to admit that I loved certain things or wanted certain things; worrying that the things I wanted were not for me and that the things I loved were trite and commonplace. I didn’t dare admit to either emotion, though that did not render me free of them. Then today, finally, I read a little Mary Oliver in the quiet space of my room and realised that things are very simple. The legitimacy of what you love is only in the feeling of it, which, aside from curious examination, you need not defend in front of anybody and least of all yourself. There are many complex things that can benefit from critique and analysis but to love a harmless thing, and feel that you love it somewhere deep inside, is best left as it appears, and pursued for the feeling of it and accompanied only by soft thought, occasionally.