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For those who feel too much

and other stories.

264 bit colour.

The last year has been interesting. I’ve learnt a lot about myself and who I am as a person. I wrote a bunch of letters, grew, became braver but still I wrestle with this concept of taking too much space. Of being too much. This concept of likability.  

I found myself in a situation where I had the choice to bring all of my expansive self to the forefront and I didn’t. Because part of me feels/felt like this expansive self, the universe I carry is what was not wanted or chosen in the past by young boys who couldn’t handle all this greatness. I wasn’t made for everyone. I realise that now. But I also find myself lowering the volume on myself, on my voice, on my personality because maybe it is too loud for some. And this was my predicament. 

Taking up space. I thought that if I tone down I might be better received. And in toning down I muted myself to greys and whites so that the brilliance of myself in full technicolour was not realised. The hues of my wit, the shades of my humour, the extensive palate of my vocabulary. 

Because someone in the past couldn’t handle the brilliance and maybe that has stuck with me more than I care to realise.

I didn’t want to be too much this time around. So instead I became less. 

love.

Page 13 of 365

This year I want to be intentional. 

I want to create more.

I want to mine the gold inside me.

I want to read more.

Write.

Learn.

I will be more intentional. 

Last week i asked someone if they wanted to have coffee with me because it was my birthday. I freaked out. I’m still freaking out over the response. I used this quote when i asked him. I’ve never done this before in my life. But then last night I saw this quote on my friend’s profile and I took it as confirmation. I’d done the right thing. It was wild and crazy but it’s better than living in the land of what-if. I’m in this space where I’d rather take a chance than live not knowing what could’ve been. 

Happy birthday to me. 

“May his address be your heart, and yours alone.”

Pieces.

Thanks Dad.

My sister found this in the archives of her tumblr. I remember writing it, and i think it was about the boy who left and came back. I hadn’t been able to rid myself of the emotional entanglement until about a year ago. 

It was also about church and its frustrations. It was about me and my sisters and the constant fight to be part of a church ‘family’ that seemed to reject us and have no room for us. 

I wanted to leave. and have a different life. Write a different story. Change the entire narrative. 

This was birthed out of that.

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