I think the FierceFeminist is a perfect way recapture why I started blogging in the first place. I wanted to share stories, change opinions with what I wrote and just have fun with it.
Social media is like a dice; most of the time you roll it and you win, but sometimes you lose.
I guess, if I had known about myself and the way I usually acted, I would have sat myself down and slapped myself. I would have known that I was acting shit, and that I had to bring myself back up.
Our love would never bloom a garden in our chests.
Now, when pain arrives, I don't shut the door and it tramples it's way back in. I open the door, offer it a seat and let it stay.
I am tired most days because my joints work hard to keep me upright. Chronic pain is unseen, unheard and half the time it is never known about.
I was up the stream, I had no paddle, I had no way to get back... yet, to me, I was doing pretty well. I was still floating, who cared if I would never reach land again?
Everyone has a different definition of feminism, but one that includes the idea of hatred and superiority isn't what feminism stands for.
I would get through my break up by myself. I would find it liberating, I would find some happiness through the clouds of loneliness that clouded me.
I'm sorry, I let you down...