I'm not quite sure what it was, or when for that matter, but I began to bloom, so slow that it was not easily visible, and so foreign that it was almost unrecognizable. I began to see stars and galaxies when I looked in my own eyes and I began making my own music. Suddenly I saw a way out in my own smile, and I found hope in the way I laughed, boisterously, as if everything would one day be okay. With every sunrise waking up became easier, and with every sunset I let a few of my insecurities go in the wind, praying that they would never return. I was a goddess, one with myself, and I had never felt lighter. And so when the rain fell, and the sky became dark, I learned to let the water wash away everything that told me I was not good enough. When the demons that mercilessly chained me down began whispering, I covered myself with the whole armor of God and stood beaten and bruised, but breathing. And though sometimes it became harder to breathe, I learned to stop making apologies in my own skin. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I am blooming. I am rising. And now, when I am outnumbered, and lost, and tired, I will turn to myself to find the strength. -sna
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