On finding my fuck yes.

If this isn't self-explanatory, what will be?

I’m writing these words in bed.

My favourite place.
My happy place.

Don’t fetishise me.

Photo by Suresh Kumar on Unsplash

I am not your fantasy.

I am my own fantasy.
I am my own muse & masterpiece.

These words stream out of me.

I’ve decided to write differently here. I’ve decided to play differently here. Yet this is just the extension of everything that came before. It’s a new riff on an old song. An ancient song. A song I didn’t write & didn’t choose. A song I always knew. A song I didn’t know I knew.

Two questions:

1. What do you know that you don’t know that you know?
2. What are you committed to?

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An observation:

I could write and write and write and write… and still, I’d have more to say.

I say the same things over again.

I could say the same things over and over again.

I could say the same things over and over again for the rest of my life. And I’d never get bored. And I’d always be inspired. And it would sound and feel different each time. Because we never, ever, ever walk the same road in the same way twice.

I’ve decided to own that I know what the fuck I’m doing, and it feels revelatory.

This isn’t just about letting myself be anymore. I don’t need to let myself be when I am being, effortlessly. In years to come, I will look back at this moment and I will be so thankful that I wrote this. I will be so thankful that I shared it. I will be so thankful that I crystallised it, that I honoured it, that I treated it—and myself—as precious.

I am a fucking legend. And I love claiming it.

When you’re a fuck yes to yourself, everything else comes easy.

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I am clear. I am clean. I am free.

And so, I rise.
And so, I become.
And so, I am available for becoming.
And so, I am available for everything I always am & was.

I’m a writer. I’m a dreamer. I’m a poet. I’m a realist. I’m a fucking believer in humanity & devotee of redemption. I’m a lover. I’m a fighter. I’m a queen. I’m a fucking gorgeous, glorious human being. I’m a free-spirited little minx. I am everything & I am nothing. I am here, I am me, and that’s enough for me.

I’m enough for me.

Whenever you read this, wherever you are, I hope you smile. In fact, fuck that— I hope the corners of your lips curl up into a grin. I hope you’re cheeky. I hope you’re ridiculous. I hope you wink at yourself in the mirror.

I hope you have a fucking beautiful day.

Eat an apple for me.