Some women don't get to live soft lives. They get handed chaos, grief, betrayal, and they have to learn how to bloom anyway. They become the ones who know how to carry others even when their own world is falling apart because they remember what it was like when no one showed up for them. There are so many versions of me that I wish I could go back and hug and reassure her. You don’t hate living, you just hate some chapters of your life. It gets hard, but oh it gets so much better💛