#becoming

[survivorliteracy]

#spotify #music #song

[catmint1]

I think it’s one of the most useless questions an adult can ask a child — What do you want to be when you grow up? As if growing up is finite. As if at some point you become something and that’s the end.

—Michelle Obama, Becoming

[crookedreads]

The easiest way to disregard a woman’s voice is to package her as a scold.

Michelle Obama, Becoming, 2018

[what-the-wind-carries]

I do not want a life that ends in the same shape it began.

I want to grow antlers,

collect the blue from ravens’ wings,

and make friends with the fern that grows sideways.

[fikile-inkosikazi]

It's Called Self-Love

"You don't really care about how you dress,neh?"my aunt asked me one afternoon.

"Dress like a lady! You're making me a laughingstock with the neighbours!" my mother would shout whenever I walked out looking like I had picked clothes in my sleep.

One day, as my brother and I were about to leave for the shops. when he stopped and looked at me.

"Can't you put your polo jersey over that shirt? Where's your pink sweater to go with those jeans?"

Instantly I became self-conscious, felt embarrassed. Anxious. The worst part that it was so hot outside.

"The polo jersey is dirty. I'll get the pink one. I'll be back," I said already turning around.

He shook his head.

"It's called self-love"

At the time, I didn't think much of those words

To me, clothes were just clothes.

As long as they covered my body, I was fine.

Looking presentable felt like something people cared about.

Not me.

But the truth is, I wasn't always like that.

After losing someone I loved, something inside me died. A part of me had left with them.

Then one morning, while walking through the school corridors, I heard a boy say to his friend,

"She's ugly"

Just like that.

He probably forgot he ever said it.

I didn't.

That one sentence followed me for years. It settled somewhere deep inside me. Slowly, changing how I saw myself.

I stooped dressing to express myself.

I dressed to disappear.

By the time I got to college, getting dress had became exhausting. And I mean exhausting with a capital "E".

I'd stand in front of my wardrobe trying to match colours, wondering what to wear. Sometimes I'd almost miss my taxi -an hour's ride to college- because I had changed my outfit five times already. Other mornings I'd completely change everything just before living the house

My beloved brother watched this battle almost every day.

"It's called self-love" he'd say again, frustrated after being my stylist.

For the longest time, I thought self-love meant dressing better.

Now I think it means something much quieter. It's inside of one-life.

Last week, a friend pointed out that one of our tutors always wears black.

Something clicked.

I decided to wear black too.

Not because I wanted to hide.

Because black gave me peace. A peace of mind

It isn't demanding.

I don't spend an hour wondering whether this colour goes with that one.

I don't panic before leaving the house, let alone embarrassed.

I just get dressed.

And for someone who used to have anxiety over something as simple as choosing an outfit, that's a big deal.

Maybe one day I'll wear bright colours.

Maybe I'll fall in love with pink again.

Who knows?

But for now, black feels like me,

And today, if people know me as the girl who always wears black, I hope they know it isn't because I'm hiding anymore.

It's because, for the first time in a long time, I am learning on becoming home with myself.

[vasilismazarakis]

Let Your life Reflect Your Inner Standards

What you tolerate, repeat, and choose daily becomes your visible reality. When your inner standards rise, your outer world has no choice but to recalibrate. As the Metamorphosis coach, I guide people to live in integrity with who they’re becoming, not who they’ve outgrown.

🔍 Take a moment today: where could your actions better match your values?

Save this as a reminder and follow for daily alignment practices.

[survivorliteracy]

#song #music #autism