metanoia

daughter, writer, future mother ♡ take up your cross ♡

[mother-lee]

† welcome to the main blog †

is that not our greatest desire — to feel a love like a mother’s love?

writing my debut novel, ALMOST HEAVEN | read the opening here & a sample of chapter two here

follow my side blog @sister-lee

[madeleineengland]

The Creature x Elizabeth by Shannon Wildsmith.

[mother-lee]

been super obsessed with tornadoes lately which is weird considering i nearly shit myself at the thought of them when i was a child

[robertalanclayton]

Russell, Kansas, RA Clayton

[littlehorrorshop]

Her Sister from Paris (1925)

[letheyim]

[mother-lee]

entombed by deftones

[song-for-an-unborn-sun]

[orpheusindreams]

Bathed in early mornings glow

[unconditionalstudio]

[gothredy]

[mother-lee]

The worst part about being habitually single, I think, is that the weight of the world is so much greater when you do not have someone close to you who can serve as a distraction from all those things that are dark and empty; when you are alone, you often only have your own thoughts to sink your teeth into. I believe this is why I have always idolized the “emotional heroism” of romance; I have always wished for a man to swoop into my life and save me from myself. I do not always want to be so trapped in myself—and yet I am always alone.

[vv-itchy]

[pinkblanc]

[dollieheartt]

early anniversary gifts from my butch ♡

[pulldrone-deactivated20240307]

[mother-lee]

When I turn twenty twenty-two, I will say that I have not been kissed. I will say that I have not been held. I will say that I have not loved nor been loved. I will say that I am still not sure of myself. I will say that I am still very afraid. I will say that I am still vile. I will say that I have not achieved any of my deepest personal goals. I will say that I have never been romantically involved with anyone. I will say that I am still delusional. I will still question my autonomy. I will still battle depression. I will still pretend that I do not care what my parents think of me. I will still feel lonely. I will still wish to feel the weight of a man’s hand on my own. I will still doubt, and I will still think that I am ugly. I will still treat myself horribly. I will still not understand myself. When I turn twenty twenty-two, I will still feel inadequate. I will say that I have accomplished very little. A quarter of my life will be complete, and I will be dissatisfied.

06.08.26, original dtd 04.03.2024