“when you aren’t fed love from a silver spoon, you’ll learn to lick it off of knives“


I just needed to put this somewhere to read again in the future while remembering that growing up, I did not have a close example for how a healthy, enduring romantic love should behave.

But now I am 31, for chrissakes!

Over the years, I have been teaching myself what boundaries are, how to maintain my codependent tendencies, & healthy ways to deal with stress. I have a long way to go, but I have come so far.

I am both tougher and more tender for it all. I am manifesting the love of my life. I am becoming the woman that my partner deserves. I am learning that I don’t have to lick knives. I can have a silver spoon, too.

I mean, I think.

I believe…

Or is it foolish to still be so full of hope?

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Being born and raised in the south should have made me more inbred and less tolerant, but something went wrong in the grand scheme of these damned rebels. I am; brutally honest, a bad driver with a record to prove it, a connoisseur of stand-up comedy, the eldest child, an aware procrastinator, semi-sweet, the result of my mother losing her virginity, easily excitable, a lover of music, a pretty shit liar, late to any event no matter what, myself without apology.

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