i fear i'll disappoint my mother

whose life am i living?

some time ago, i began repeating the mantra “my life is my own; my story is my own” because i had a long-standing fear of becoming my mother.

ours is a relationship of honey, my mother and i. easy to swallow, even easier to get stuck. so much of my ambition i received from her; all of my beauty, too. blessings benefiting an eldest daughter. for all of my assertiveness, it often pains me to communicate when our my previously prescribed plan changes.

your early twenties oughtn’t be an exercise in checking off boxes, but it is true that what you do now, shows up later. this is the defining decade after all.

should i define it with an MBA? a business, or two? cortisol levels never before seen in a woman 5’5, 120 lbs?

what’s often true in life is that the less resistance there is, the greater friction eases.

so, perhaps i will disappoint my mother. just this once.

sweet dreams,

a diouana woman