I like messy people

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Messy, scattered, slightly broken people, are my favorite people. People who wear their tattoos, their scars, their wrinkles, their stories… on their faces, their bodies, and in the way they express and carry themselves.

All of the most interesting people I have been lucky enough to have met in my life look a little, or sometimes, more than a little… rough around the edges. And they don’t try to hide it. Life has tried to beat them down and has a few times but they have always fought back. Started over. Took the risk.

I have a creative mind and heart and I always have. I see so many things as an expression of myself and my creativity other than just my writing… my tattoos are art, they are expressions of me that mean things to me very deeply. They are there for me, no one else. My hair color, and clothes, my drawings, and the way I decorate my home (with lots of dog hair). These are all expressions of how I am feeling, they change constantly, with new inspirations, new paths in life, new dreams.

I am trying to be brave.

I am trying to become, despite her challenges, set backs & limitations, the woman I always wanted to become. And I am so grateful that in many ways I am, and that I am still growing into her. A woman unafraid of judgement, a woman unafraid of the future, willing to take risks, not loosing her sense of wonder at the most simple things in life that have always brought me the biggest pleasures, like the first fireflies of summer, and the first snow flakes in December. A woman who isn’t afraid to be herself, to laugh at herself, and to grow. To bare her scars.

I spend a great deal of time fighting my body, and myself, because of chronic disease and pain. Flares, medications, the constant set backs… make staying positive, and true to myself, extra challenging most of the time.

But sometimes while I am so busy fighting myself I forget to stop and be grateful that despite my illness, or life’s challenges, I have, in all of the most important ways, become the woman I always wanted to be, in so many ways. And in so many more, I am still yet, becoming her.

She has a warrior spirit, but she hasn’t lost her kindness for others, no matter the cruelty she has seen or been dealt. She’s surrounded by dogs, and animals, and trees, all of the things that make life worth waking up to every single day.

She’s messy, unorganized, forgetful, easily distracted & hyper.

She’s terrible at laundry and putting it away and she never wears two socks that match.

But she sees inspiration in the simplest things, and loves deeply, and honestly.

And I’m grateful for her. Despite the pain.

I’m grateful to be learning that messy, broken people who are not afraid to embrace themselves, their creativity, their dreams, and their desires, are the real super hero’s. It takes guts to be who you really are. It takes courage that most people lack. And thanks to life and this woman’s gigantic amount of stubbornness…. that is one thing I will never run out of.

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