Strength in solitude.
Being comfortable in one’s own skin.
This did not come naturally to her. She was shy, timid and so very afraid of what others may think. She was afraid of growing old alone. The whole process was a journey of self-discovery; a long road of trial and error; a mind full of questions about life. Not everyone is born a social butterfly. For some it takes guts. For others it takes time. But for her, it took vulnerability and a sense of humour because she became the class clown. Now, things are different.
She dances like no one is watching and sings her lungs out. She enjoys making people smile and spends time getting to know them. She loves food but has a stomach the size of a peanut. She’s quirky, crazy and almost too loud for comfort. Not everyone’s cup of tea. But that’s okay. What’s important is that she is comfortable in her own skin.
Life has not always been kind but she has learnt to pick herself up whenever circumstances push her down. Even when everything known to man throws her off balance, she remains calm and steady. Mostly. There have been times though when she lets the tears flow because, at times, it is totally okay to cry. It’s part of healing. She just reminds herself not to dwell.
She looks forward to the future, not turning back. Simply because the past is the past. It’s all just dusted ashes.
And sometimes, she wears pink.