Friday, July 10, 2020

V

At 30 years old, I still wear my heart on my sleeve. I allow myself to be vulnerable and open up to the deepest joys and sorrows life can bring. I am human and I am proud of it. An important thing therapy has taught me is that there are no wrong feelings. What I feel is the right feeling. I don't have to think I shouldn't be feeling this, or it's not okay to feel this way. I feel it, and that means it's okay, because I'm still alive and life still goes on, so it must mean it doesn't defy the laws of physics for me to feel any kind of way. This applies when I'm feeling unexpectedly happy, or excited, or disappointed, or angry, or decidedly still in deep liking with people I thought I didn't. My feelings are okay, and I am okay. I voted, and it was quick, but I still felt nervous. I am but one person in my district, but it felt so big, so much beyond me. Somehow this feeling reminds me that I am made of stardust, and that I am the product of millions of years before me. That feels okay.

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