what’s the greatest lesson a woman should learn?

that since day one, she’s already had everything

she needs within herself. it’s the world that 

convinced her she did not.

rupi kaur

my hardest lesson to learn.

some days I think it’s because I could never find my place; uneasy in my skin. I loathed my skin, my difference, my thoughts, my quiet.

my quiet – a piece of me I love so dearly now. the piece I felt was fault and inadequacy lumped into the gut of a shy little girl who grasped to find connection. she was a child of the tall grass, of humming cicadas, of trees that sang with the winds.

sun on brown skin, scabbed knees and dirty feet.

little tangled knots in her hair.

she saw beyond the physical world, and spoke with spirits rarely heard.

where did this little one go? the one who I see so beautifully now, but who I pushed away until I nearly lost her? the one I made cuts into; breaking open flesh with sharp sticks to hurt her for all the things she never did?

I am sorry, little one, for not loving you when you needed care the most. I am sorry for not seeing how the world I needed was held by tiny fingers with scratches on the backs of her hands.

a lantern in the woods you are to the darkest hollows of my memory. I will light a fire and bring you home.

Photo by Gregoire Sitter.