Sometimes, I feel less free to put away sunshine in favor of a cozy, overcast drizzle. The kind that wants to be soft, alone, with a book and a mug of something hot.
Sometimes, I don’t know what it means to be myself, because I feel like I am an evolving creature. The older I get, the more I learn about myself, and the more I realize that I am not fully myself yet. That I am growing into Me, like a child grows into the next size shoes.
I am a growing, changing, living, breathing human being. Falling, struggling, climbing, trying, working, striving, to be all I could be, to all who know me.
But I try anyway.
Sometimes, this is the only space I have where I don’t fear being real. I come back, re-read, and wonder how in the world I can say such things. The anonymity of the Internet is good for something, I suppose.
While I type this, I honestly feel sunshiney, sociable, and all rainbow-y.
But, I don’t always.
And I need to make some room for that sometimes.
Grace & Peace,