incomplete

I’ve noticed I tend to like collections of things.

When I discovered Alex and Ani, I wanted several of their charm bracelets. When I see a new design of Born Primitive’s sports bras, I want it. When I find an amazing artist on Instagram, I want to scroll aaaaall the way back to their first post and click forward to see their growth and evolution. When I find an inspiring blogger, I want to read all of their articles from oldest to newest. When I find an honest author, I want to devour all of their books.

There is nothing wrong with educating myself and expanding my horizons. But there is a distinction between that and mindlessly chasing “more.” To echo my last post, I am continuing to learn when I have had my fill of something. I don’t need to completely consume an entire series to extract every single piece of wisdom to be gleaned from it. I can release the fear of missing out on something and just enjoy what does come across my radar. I can’t befriend every single human on this planet, but I can cherish and love the ones that cross my path.

The older I get, the more I’m learning that there is value in letting go, in subtracting from my life. Additions are great too, but it feels so freeing to release old things that I believed so firmly to be true. I love being “wrong” about myself and unbecoming what I’m NOT, to allow myself to be who I ACTUALLY, authentically, bravely AM.


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