Spiritual growth releases the scariest skeletons from your closet, it bends you until you think you may break, and saddens you to the point you wonder why you decided to become a better person in the first place. But when you stick with it, you reach a level of inner peace where life starts making more sense.
Then, you flow into giving yourself compassion and understanding, and your "flaws," become things you're no longer ashamed of.
Oh, and people who try to bring you down? You don't have a problem telling them to fuck off because your journey to self-love has taught you not to settle for less than you deserve.
This is the journey I've been on for about two years now. And if you read my first poetry collection, "Blossom's Wine Bar," the sober and zen creature talking to you is probably completely weird and unexpected. But life is completely weird and unexpected.
"The Me Who Loves Me" is a collection of poems about healing and hope and streams of consciousness that I pulled straight out of my journals. Some of the moods in this book include pettiness, anger, joy, inspiration, sadness, badassness, and romance. Yea, I'm suuuper connected with my feelings now.
To be clear, I'm not the sappy everything is sunshine and goddess circles type of spiritual that some of you may want and that's okay. I'm still the Baltimore girl who curses too much and loses her patience quickly. I'm just doing it with balanced chakras and a mind that loves yoga more than wine now (binging on true-crime and letting my imagination run wild is still a problem though.)
