Sometimes, I forget that I am young.
I forget that I have only been blessed with a quarter of a century.
I forget that mistakes are part of trying.
I forget that fear is motivation, not food for anxiety.
I forget that friendship takes kindness, and openness.
I need to forget those who have made me less kind and less open.
I forget the way a first kiss feels.
I forget to smile sometimes.
I forget what it’s like to be wooed, except by myself.
I forget that it’s better to woo yourself than to expect others to do it for you.
I forget how to give a genuine hug to someone other than my mother and my father. Because I’m fearful others won’t return it.
I forget the sound of my first boyfriend’s voice.
I forget to eat well.
I forget to make eye contact, retail has killed a friendlier version of myself.
I forget not to stand tall and act like I don’t care, because of how I was approached when I cared.
I forget that kindness and courage can go hand in hand.
I forget who I was when I was 19.
I forget what it looks like when someone wants to be your friend.
I forget because I remember that no one can change my life, only I can.
I remember these wonderful women who have looked me in the eye, and told me good, and kind words. Strong words.
I forget that each day is a blessing. That each day is what I make it. That each day belongs to me and me alone.
I’m going to forget forgetting and start remembering.
– via thatkindofwoman