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For a long while now I’ve had words swimming in my head. At night they flit by as I try to sleep forming stories and narrative that no longer want to be contained. I’ve denied and ignored them for years, as it’s a whole other layer of vulnerability that I haven’t felt prepared to face. Always worried how they would be perceived and what that would mean about me. Being told you are too much of one thing and not enough of another. Leaving you never really knowing what parts of you are ok to be shared. So you shift, withdraw and question which parts of you to expose. Which parts of you to be seen. Which parts of you deserve to be loved.

It's only now when the words within me overwhelm and I shrug off the burdens of not enough and too much allowing the hidden me to be vulnerable. It's as if something has shifted, more aligned. It's all me and it’s all ok. And it's all love.

So now I write not knowing who will read it or whom it will resonate with. Needing more outlets for creativity and passion. A way to share what I love and why. A way to share what I’m learning and why. A way to share that what I practice is also how I live. So that other women know that there are ways to be whole, be seen and be vulnerable that lead to more of who you are. That awareness of who we can be is juicy, full of depth and darkness, light and promise, scary and so affirming all at once. And maybe my journey and what I continue to share will shift what you see in you so that you know you are not alone. Drawing strength in our evolution together.

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