when i let them run free, my waters allow me do what they do best: trespass the boundaries of my own hurt, my trust, my selves. gently and fiercely. here i can find my truer selves, but also, and most importantly, strangers and kin.

here my waters can nourish seeds that need to be sprouted. seeds of hope & faith i thought had been long gone.

what hurts the most in our stories is the belief that they cast us as alone and unworthy of love and belonging. it’s the shame that hurts the most.

when we look for people who struggle just as much as we do, what we’re doing is trying to belong.

one doesn’t have to experience the exact same story to extend their compassion. all of us have stories that would make us silently weep. all of us have stories that would bring us to our knees.

in all of those stories, it’s not their details that touch our souls the most, it is the reflection on our own feelings. it is the deep knowing that we are not alone. that just like them, we too, have felt utterly alone, deeply ashamed, incredibly unworthy.

dark & threatening clouds are filled with water only, and so are we. if it rains so much that an ocean forms around me, i trust that if i surrender, it’ll bring me back to shore. to a land where I can finally set my selves free.