~bartender, an amaretto sour, please?
this is paralyzing to even write. not because of anyone already here, not as far as I know — but instead because of who I told about this place before I made it in.
forgive my manners; gentle reader, I must start by giving you something from my past. I would have included the author's original post, but she has since deleted it. as such, in the spirit of my past selves, I give you instead the oldest and crustiest mirrors I could find.
livejournal mirrorit is the warsan shire poem "for women who are difficult to love." I suspect I first learned of it around 2012 when these posts are dated, but who knows.
for now, I will say that I have spent seven and a half years regrowing my wings. the 007 in my username is not directly a Bond reference. it is the reference that translates to "no family."
~bartender, something brightly colored with an umbrella, please.
gentle reader, if I may ask a question of you — do you believe that you are worth fighting for?
I don't know that I'm worth fighting for. I would fight for myself. I do like myself and I think I'm worthy of love, but to find that person who will fight for you? Even my own partner and the mother of my child, it is sometimes hard to see her in that way.
That all goes over my head, but welcome. And to answer your question, no I don't think so.
thank you. I would challenge you a bit, in that I would argue that merely responding to my post is fighting for yourself, no? maybe that's just my years of isolation talking. letting other people know I exist is terrifying.