Sure, it's always ok, in the end. In the end. The beginning. This new end, another beginning. Tears signal sadness, signal fear, but I sit through them and the discomforts as so often I have. I think of things I might do, all on my own. To be more independent and strong-willed. And maybe I am, it's likely accurate that I underestimate my own strength, my own flexibility. Tonight is support group and I'm glad for the support. To find strength in leading and guiding others, in learning to channel my fears into something other than a deadlock. Into something that doesn't knock the wind from me.
And I think of all the things I've learned these past few months. The importance of patience and sometimes finding the more challenging recipes. Just for me and no one else. It's worth it, to know how to release my own endorphins. To protect alone time and cultivate sweet solitude. To focus on myself and not worry as much about maintaining relationships. There's more, so much more. To see and do and feel. With or without anyone else. But I know I am social and to even some, special, and I crave those bonds, those treasured souls in my life.
To ask for what I want and need, maybe even unapologetic-ally. To describe the steps from here to there, of my feminine wiles and giggles and stares.
