I’m learning to love myself. I’ve tried before, but my standards were too high. Guilt was my punishment for failure. This is gentler. It’s not about perfection. It’s about treating myself as a lover: one I can mind read.
Dining on canapes for a day; home spa; gin and tonic; quiet. – sweet pleasures. All will be well. Self-calming not self-harming.
We have not yet consummated the relationship. The urge is rising but for now, it lies dormant at my root, flickering but not catching. It will. But for now, I enjoy holding it inside me: fire for my words.