We were girls with loud voices, notoriously resented by the staff of our school for being outspoken and difficult to tame, as a year group. We were creative, wild and a bundle of loose canons set to explode into adulthood. Yet, these same girls, myself included, were unsure of ourselves, anxious and self-conscious in the extreme.
Give yourself to respect to acknowledge not what you are doing, but what you are being. "I think your life will be special," He told me. When I raised my eyebrows with no shortage of skepticism, he smiled a very genuine kind of smile. "Yes, I do. Because you've already got your why."
Yet, somewhere not-so-deep down, I have had a shame about the content I produce, the words I write. I let others decide what my words are worth in my mind and deny them the ability to declare them useless by not sharing what I work on, what I value most. After all, if the critics can't find your work, then you're safe, right? All in all, it's a tremendously stupid system.
"I used to think that I was particularly white-washed as child, admiring only Aurora from Sleeping Beauty or Belle from Beauty and the Beast. My imagination was stunted when it came to Pocahontas or Mulan. Now, as an adult, I have examined my thoughts and I realise that I only allowed myself to admire Disney princesses that I could change myself enough to become."