"picture yourself when you were five.
in fact; dig out a photo of little you and tape it to your mirror.
how would you treat her?
love her?
feed her?
how would you nurture her if you were the mother of little you?
i bet you would protect her fiercely while giving her space to spread her itty-bitty wings.
she'd get naps,
healthy food,
imagination time,
and adventures into the wild.
if playground bullies hurt her feelings,
you'd hug her tears away and give her perspective.
when tantrums or meltdowns turned her into a poltergeist,
you'd demand a loving time-out in a naughty chair.
from this day forward i want you to extand that same compassion to your adult self."
YOU ARE READING
Motivation.
Poetryhey, stop scrolling. everyone who is reading this: I'm so glad you're alive, I'm so fucking proud of you. you are loved. don't give up, we're almost there. you are going to make it. ♛
