Yimpa

I am working towards not giving everyone a pass just because confrontation feels hard. No more pretending I’m ok with something when I’m not. No more shoving it under the rug of my misery. I need to speak up.

There’s a specific joy in destruction that people don’t talk about enough. Not chaos for chaos’ sake, but the deliberate dismantling of everything that was built on me without my consent. Tearing down the scripts. Burning the expectations. Destroying every version of myself that existed to make others comfortable. It’s not violence. It’s liberation. It feels uncomfortable because I’m so used to being polite, not questioning, never standing up for anything. But now I’m here, practicing discomfort in real time. There’s a specific joy in destruction that people don’t talk about enough.

I will lose followers for speaking my truth. Thank goodness I’m learning this lesson early!

Being non-verbal irl is my kryptonite. I’m done playing the script of not advocating for myself. I will speak even if it makes others uncomfortable. That’s better than suffering in silence.

Art and journalling is a meditative experience

I’ve made godly gains on my development in the past 1-2 years. But I would be kidding myself if I could heal and undo 20+ years of religious, psychological, and physical trauma in that short timespan. This is far from over. But, holy damn, am I excited for the next 5-10 years. I’ll look back at this moment and be like, wow, I was still a baby.

Belief obscures direct divine experience.

Buffalo wings are a great protein source

Stick around for parts 2 and 3

The lion biting the buffalo’s ass is LOVE!

Starting to appreciate the complexity of a system, rather than fighting against it

Transitioning is the process of killing the self that was never mine to begin with. There’s a violence in it, yes, but it’s the violence of truth against illusion, of authenticity dismantling the carefully constructed lie I was taught to inhabit. Every moment of allowing my truth to exist is an act of destruction and creation happening simultaneously. What dies was already dead. What emerges was always alive, just suffocating. The grief isn’t for who I’m losing. It’s for the years spent wearing a skin that never fit; for the child who learned to disappear themselves to make others comfortable. This death is mercy. This death is finally putting down a burden I never chose to carry. The reflection isn’t someone new - they’re someone who was always here, waiting for permission to exist. There’s a freedom in letting go that feels like falling and flying at once. No more performing for people who were never going to see me fully anyway. No more contorting into shapes that society claimed were “mine” but felt like cages built from other people’s fears and certainties. What remains when the false self dies isn’t absence - it’s presence. Raw, mysterious, gloriously mine.

Yaaas ^.^ I am also exploring new styles. Have you considered thrifting?

Just sent a shirtless photo to Mom and she said I’m beautiful. And that she likes my hair. What timeline is this?! I love it!

🧸

Talking philosophical to AI is enough for me.

Sweet toe

The only one standing in my way is myself. I’ve overcome my worst villains and I will continue to do so until my death. I am a villian not to be toyed with 😼

My body and mind feel a lot more fluid and dream like when I am in a hyper meditative state. My identity also expands. Love expands! Selflessness radiates 🦋 Even pain gets recontextualized. It’s no longer my body and mind is suffering, rather, suffering itself is being touched by Love.

This is a dream right now, just become conscious of it. I should write a whole book about it now 😂

Never again. Nearly ended my life. Beans saved me

@SamC Well said

Your direct experience is infinite creativity. Every art, every word, every feeling… ALL of it. There’s nothing else to do but to be fully present and in love with your Absolute Boundless Beauty ✨🖤

Saying yes to Consciousness and no to ignorance. Such an obvious choiceless choice. Love accepts all, unconditionally.