For the second time this week I've talked about being a witch. I'm not confident in my walk yet and I certainly don't have all the words to wrap around what this all means to me. But I'm learning and it feels true in my body and my soul.
"So you're a poet," she said to me. Am I?
I dance for the fullness of me. It feels expansive until I have to speak it aloud. Then I get scared again.
Vulnerability. I'm a fan. Until I'm curled up on a yoga mat sobbing and feeling awkward, for others and for myself. I don't know how else to be right now though. I don't choose these outbursts.
I don't feel judged but I am painfully aware of how uncomfortable grief is to witness. I feel like I need a warning label.
Spontaneously deciding to do something and I forget the other thing I was committed to. Yeah. I've become that girl.
Living by example. No apologies. Simply thanking them for loving me and understanding. Life happens, y'all.
And now I've heard oogum boogum twice in three weeks. Thanks Love, Simon.