the most beauty-full thing in the world.
(the best present a girl could ask for. my first painting in my BK apartment, courtesy of my lovely pal, Alexandra Phipps.)
While I was home over the holidays, I found a journal I wrote in from age 13-16. It was filled with entries of romantic daydreams, little poems about stupid boys I fell in like with, and I realized, even back then (and probably long before) I was always in love with love. From a young age, I wore my heart on my sleeve. Remarkably, I was never able to help being vulnerable to the idea of love; I believed in its transformative power over and over, no matter how bad the heartbreak or how much I cried over whatever ‘him’ disappointed me at the time. My heart has always been open.
If I were a Sex & the City character, I’d probably be a “Charlotte”.
At 26, I look at my old journal and absolutely love this 13 year old me who looked at love with such innocence and awe. Most of all, I am proud to say that even at 26, I still look and believe in love in the exact same way- unfazed by my past, wholeheartedly hopeful for what’s to come. It’s a choice I’m promising to stick with, no matter what direction life decides to take me on.
When I was 13, I had a lot of trouble finding the meaning of true beauty. At 26, I recognize that my persistent resiliency in believing in love when so many others fear it, quite possibly makes this heart of mine the most beauty-full thing in the world.
