She wasn't handed a damn thing. She 's been fighting all her life. Life threw punches, she took 'em, spit out the blood and kept going. Broken heart? shaken soul? Exhausted spirit? Join the club. But bad ass women don't break- they fucking rise like phoenixes, every damn time
Paint me however you want. Label me, judge me and twist the story. But know this, my heart is pure, my loyalty is solid, my intentions are real, I don't need your validation. I know what I bring to the table and I'll never shrink just to be understood.
I'M GRIEVING THE LIFE I THOUGHT I WOULD HAVE, LETTING GO OF THE ЕХРЕСТАTIONS I ONCE HELD FOR MYSELF, AND ACCEPTING THAT ALTHOUGH MY LIFE IS NOT WHAT I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE, IT IS BEAUTIFUL AND REAL.

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