When I was younger, I attempted to be flawless.
Hiding my imperfections, never to be seen, never to be thought less of.
Now that I am older,
I show my scars to the world that made them.
I embrace the wounded, the worry, the broken.
I embrace the curious, the quirky, the weird.
I embrace the daughter, the mother, the women.
I don’t strive to be flawless any longer.
I only attempt to be fearless.