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Keys To Living A Good Life? Master Self-Acceptance. Let In The Light.

Somewhere along the line, I made the decision to stop accepting half-love and half-assed anything. From myself, from the people around me, from the life I'm determined to cultivate. It never was enough, and it never was going to be. I got tired of trying to force things to be worth more than they were. I got tired of wasting patience on things that I shouldn't have ever had to wait for. 

I know. That sounds like a very easy decision to have to make- but it has been the hardest. The best, but the hardest. It has been the source of bridges I've had to burn, and walls that I've built up and torn down again over and over. It has been the core of what keeps my hands moving across empty notebook pages at obscene morning hours while the world around me rests peacefully. It has been the border between me saying "goodnight" and "goodbye," even to the people I thought were the closest to me. 

It has been wild, and awful, and messy, and beautiful, and sometimes it's been all of those things at once. Sometimes it's been me laughing, genuinely - with mascara staining my face from crying just seconds before. And I love it all. It's mine. It's my life and nobody can take that from me. To get to own it for everything that it is? That's what I live it for. 

I live it for the days like the the afternoon I took this photo. Days full of moments like finally finding the last white cup that had been missing from my set for the longest time, and sitting down by myself in the coffee house sandwiched between my own writing samples and these sweet little centerpieces. Days full of making the best of errand running by rolling the windows down and singing along to a James Taylor album in its entirety. Days full of finding peace whenever possible and appreciating the simplest personal victories, because those things matter more than we tend to think. 

I live it for the mess. Currently training myself to eventually be able to obtain the title, "ex-perfectionist." It's hard. Pieces of me always want things to go the way I plan, and I'm still hard at work on setting reasonable expectations for myself instead of pushing myself to all my limits trying to live up to impossible ones. I'm working on accountability and losing the need to always be right or have the upper hand. I'm working on self-acceptance, and recognizing that sometimes doing my best means just... attempting. Going for it. Saying how I really feel. Not apologizing for needing time to nurture and protect myself. Removing bad energies and influences from my life. Letting my messy, MESSY hair fall the way it will instead of spending twenty minutes trying to get it to go the way I want it to. I guess I'm working on being human, and it's quite an adventure.
I'm a writer. I've been a writer since I was old enough to hold a pen. I've written about the most intimate parts of my life for as long as I can remember- but there are some things that I'll never be able to express in words half as beautifully as they happen. Things like unexpected patio nights with great margaritas and even greater company. You know, the people who make it easy to get caught up in the moment and forget that it's actually 1:10 a.m. and that we all have busy lives to return to when the sun comes up again. 
And when mama made me some homemade cold brew on my first day off in months. I'm the world's biggest sucker for a good coffee on a quiet Sunday with no obligations. Oh, and definitely for people who are down to share those kinds of days with me. 
On my last night living at home, I walked past the front door to get to the kitchen and couldn't help but snap a photo of this moment. The sunlight fell through the crack in the door PERFECTLY and it hit me... that was the last time that it would. Or at least, that I would see it. That was the last time I'd see that door before closing it behind me and moving on.
Which, by the way... has NEVER. FELT. BETTER. 
The last couple of months have been really rough on me in almost every regard. It started with two ER visits and a broken rib. I lost a job. My senior year ended way earlier than I was ready for, my spring break trip to see my family was canceled, my graduation was canceled, a global pandemic caused a quarantine that did a LOT of damage to my mental health, I went through a bad breakup, moved back home temporarily at 1 in the morning... and a lot more that I can't really sum up. For most of this year things have been hard, but if you know me at all you know I took it by storm. 
And lately... that has paid off. 
On Wednesday, for the first time ever, I was handed keys to a cute little apartment of my very own. My landlord laughed at me when I told her I loved the paint smudges on the walls and the scuffed floors and the weird little quirks throughout. I knew from the minute I saw it that I had to make it mine, and with a lot of help from the people I love- I was able to do that. 

Physically, I got to open a brand new door. Emotionally, that leads to a new chapter of my life. If you were here for that, or patient with me through that process... thank you. 
You keep my heart light.
You keep my lucky. 
You keep me SO in love with living this life.

xxox
live your mess, love yourself and stay kind.











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