I read something of my mother’s recently and it stirred my spirit. Something along the lines that when you have been alone for an extended period of time, it takes such great pressure for you to allow someone in your space. Not in a closed off way. We are not caged any longer. We are not…
Desperate?
Such a shitty word for who we were but accurate.
When the desperation is chiseled away from your image. Away from your heart. Her heart.
My heart.
It allows for realization:
I’m all I ever should need.
Uncategorized family healing lgbt life nonfiction personal queer self care
Leona View All →
30-something Mississippi queer. Bleeding heart with a soft spot for honesty and oversharing. Conquering corporate America and my own insecurities– one day at a time.
