The weight of the desire to be successful is getting unbearable. But that could be because I’ve been adopting an idea of success that is not my own. We all want to be financially satisfied. We all want to be able to see the world and adorn our loved ones with their wildest, tangible dreams. With less than two days to left of my 25th year, I’m discovering that much of my stress is not native to me. Yesterday someone told me I was brought up in a conversation they were having with someone else and that I was spoken highly of. I want to spend this year calling things like that success. My goals are shifting again and I’m feeling really ambitious now. I just have to keep in mind what’s really important.

[Look details on Monday]
Photography: @lex.townsend
Makeup, styling: Emerald Shaw

I wish that somebody would bring me a compass, or even a map, just, something to distract me from the fact that I am lost. I got caught up in the whirlwind of experimentation, and I don’t mean sexual relations or physical stimulation, limitations; I got lost by Love. See, the media has convinced me that all men lie & all men cheat, and if you’re bound to be disrespected then why bother speak? If a guy shows any interest don’t get too attached: he will leave. And I’ve found a good one, a really good guy but when you are stuck in a negative mind state you feel like happiness is a lie. And you wait for someone to do you wrong cause you’ve never been done right.
So you put on your scariest mask, pull out your ugliest words, stab deep wounds with your sharpest attitudes & wait for someone to abandon you like you assume you deserve.
See, I grew up making the assumption that you date to break up, no such thing as a permanent make up, you marry to divorce, make rules just to enforce, and you forget that love is about loving somebody not picking them apart, not fighting, but Love…
And I’ve waited years for this guy to mess up, I ran from the truth cause it wasn’t enough, I wanted lies, I wanted to be fooled so I can move forward and not have to worry about being lied to or fooled anymore.
I spat hate, he swallowed pride.
I cooked pain, he threw up lies.
I kicked him out, he came inside.
I walked away, he walked beside.
I called him out, he never denied a thing. He continued to be patient and I hated it. I would look through his phone, hoping to catch him calling another girl by my name. I would yell anytime he left the house with hopes of driving him so crazy that he would approach another girl with the same lips that kissed me good bye.
I would get an attitude when he told me how much he loved me and hopes that maybe he wouldn’t love me anymore…
And I would finally be FREE…
—  Free - Skye Townsend