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.