What if the thought that you have to be anything other than what you are would never occur to you again?

What if the need to prove or even explain yourself simply wasn’t there anymore?

If you never adjusted your opinions or choices or looks in order to get their approval. If you couldn’t be bothered to play the game.

Wouldn’t it be such a relief to stop working on yourself? To just leave it for a bit, the whole idea that you need to improve and evolve and grow and change. Thing is, you do, whether you work on it or not. Life will grow you, age will evolve you.

You can leave it, if you want, in the able hands of the divine.

You could experience what this moment is like, with nothing to do and nowhere to be.

You could bring all the things you’re trying to hide, smooth over and adjust to the table.

All of you.

Maybe you’d discover that your little quirks, follies and inconsistencies are what makes it so easy for us to love you. And if you gave yourself a break, wouldn’t it give us permission to relax as well? (Have you any idea what a gift that would be?)

I know for a fact that a lot of what you think of as (your) mistakes are not really that important. You could let it pass. Let yourself off the hook. Let yourself start again, without the luggage of failure.

You could travel a bit lighter.

Maybe we’d meet along the way and recognise ourselves in each other: A woman who’ve stopped trying so damn hard.

We would smile only when we mean it, and never smile when we don’t mean it.

We wouldn’t bother with opinions.

We’d remind each other that following our hearts is actually the safest possible route, and that we don’t have to go it alone.

You don’t have to go it alone.

And maybe it is all good. Like this.

And maybe you are all good. Like this.

I think you are.

As Seen On