I spent 15 years in the closet trying to be someone else. It sucked and didn’t help anyone.
On days when I’m being my most Priestessy, queer, fat, femme, survivor self I get the most emails of thanks for being me AND the most unsubscribes/unfriends/unfollows.
For a highly sensitive, it can be a rocky ride.
I’m a rebel who loves peonies and poetry.
I’m a Buddhist Priestess.
Who loves Kali and Tara.
I’m a red lipstick wearing hippy.
I’m super smart and couldn’t care less about good grammar.
I talk with a soft and gentle voice
And sometimes I roar like a lion.
I sing badly but I sing anyway.
I’m terrified of burning at the stake.
Of getting bigger in case the fingers start pointing at me
But I keep speaking anyway.
Even when my throat closes up and I’m shaking inside.
Come home to yourself.
Be your own authority on your own heart.
Don’t let anyone tell you who you are or should be.
Because we’ve got to be ourselves and there’s no one else can be you.