Dakota Geduld

I only met you after I met myself. I only saw you after spending time walking down a corridor of mirrors, forcing myself to see this vessel in every light and from every angle.

God, Goddess, Creator, Mother Nature, Universe? I am unsure of who created me. Who took the stars, crushed them into fine powder, and poured them into this vessel. Who took the clay of the planets and molded me into this imperfect being, filled with the magic of the universe.

You cannot hustle 24 hours straight for seven days a week. You need rest.

You may have imperfections, but we all do—that’s what makes us human! You may have made mistakes, but those mistakes don’t define you—they don’t make your entire existence a mistake.

No one else determines my worth but me.

You have the ability to be your own shelter.

“You have to fight for what you love.”
“You have to fight for the person you love.”

At this moment, as you sit firmly grounded to the Earth, you are also grounded within yourself.

What comes after the butterflies fluttering away and the rose-tinted glasses cracking is more often than not written off as unromantic, because that is when reality settles in.

I am sick of my own rage. I rage and rage—not because I am the same color as dirt, but because I am treated as if that is exactly what I am.

I will throw your covers back and crack the shutters, let the light in. I won’t let you sink into darkness alone.

All I know is that I do not want to spend another second of “this life”, living a life that isn’t my own.

It’s okay if the holidays aren’t so happy this year because truthfully, they shouldn’t feel the same as every other year.

And when the final grain of sand escapes into the hourglass of a relationship, we almost demand closure. Ignorant and entitled, we believe closure is our birthright. But what happens when closure is not ours to demand?

Trigger warning: Depression When I was lost in darkness, you were my light. At first, it was distant and flickering. Little did I know you would only burn brighter than the stars.

Perfection is having spent a lifetime trying.

Every woman at some point in her life has to make the decision to buy herself back. She has to take back parts of her soul that society took from her.

No matter how dark the world gets, it can never steal your light.