“so important to realize that some feelings you carry aren’t necessarily ones that belong to you, but feelings connected to past or younger versions of you that felt unseen, unheard or unloved. certain feelings don’t just appear from thin air, they stem from unresolved energy.”

— iambrillyant

“no longer rushing what deserves time to bloom. no longer forcing what requires patience to attract. no longer looking outside of myself to measure my growth or progress, just slowly unearthing the parts of me that i had hidden and telling them that they deserve to be celebrated.”

— iambrillyant

“good communication is the foundation of anything healthy in a connection, but i appreciate the connections that don’t take many words for something to be felt or understood. i appreciate the connections that hear me beyond my voice and comprehend me deeper than my language”

— iambrillyant

“you’ve been afraid, you’ve had your fears and anxieties, you’ve felt unheard and misunderstood, you’ve had doubt occupy your space as a frequent visitor, you’ve worried about what the future holds, but in every moment you’ve still shown up anyway—there is power in that.”

— iambrillyant

“it’s the ones who give me the space to be myself, that create more room for themselves in my life.”

— iambrillyant

“some connections fail because the expectations attached to them are unrealistic, and when those expectations aren’t met, we view the other person as the issue when it’s the way we view connections which is really the problem. seeking perfection will poison your perspective.”

— iambrillyant

“your moments of stagnancy have something to teach you. you’re not stuck, not moving, or not progressing. you are simply where you need to be until you absorb and learn everything that you need to learn about this current phase.”

— iambrillyant

“sometimes the destination does change. not because you aren’t worthy of attaining your goals or reaching certain targets, but only because the finish line looks different every time you outgrow parts of who you used to be.”

— iambrillyant

“healing is such a lonely and intimate process. it requires you being your own friend on some days, being your biggest cheerleader in certain moments and spending quality time with your wounds— but it is all so necessary.”

— iambrillyant

“sometimes, when you can’t articulate your feelings it is a sign that you are meant to absorb what you’re feeling and learn from it until you can find a language for your emotions. give yourself all the time you need, your intentions deserve softness.”

— iambrillyant

“sometimes, all you can do is love yourself a little more than you loved yourself yesterday, and that is more than enough.”

— iambrillyant

“the unknown is scary, but what is even more frightening is not knowing because you never tried.”

— iambrillyant

“a lack of boundaries invites in a lack of respect. a lack of boundaries welcomes in a lack of honesty with yourself. a lack of boundaries accepts where they decide to view you instead where of you actually view yourself.”

— iambrillyant

“some peoples perceptions of you are so skewed that they will constantly misread your intent. their misunderstandings of you do not have to be your reality— they can only gaslight your spirit if you don’t know your truth.”

— iambrillyant

“i used to admire the ones who carried mountains of pain because it showed just how strong they are, now the ones i admire are the ones who are able to let go of that pain because this is where true power exists.”

— iambrillyant

“trust the timing that people enter your life, but also trust the timing in which people leave.”

— iambrillyant

I can remember thinking ‘this place doesn’t feel like a home.’ The lobby of the building was barren except for a sleepy security guard who didn’t even acknowledge the slam of the door as it shut behind us and I noticed that despite the space’s expansiveness, there wasn’t any furniture. No uncomfortable sofas or coffee-stained end tables typical for most lobbies belonging to apartment buildings. Not so much as a fake plant in sight. The lighting in the corridors and the strange-smelling lift was so harsh and unforgiving on the eyes that I felt like a fly lying dead in one of those Eazyzap bug traps, still twitching from the shock of the electricity. I was almost sober by the time we got up to their apartment so when I was offered a shot of vodka I accepted it like a dehydrated dog might accept water from a puddle during a walk. It singed my throat on the way down and I had to fight not to retch from the aftertaste. 

I had met these people not even two hours before at a bar; my friends already knew them but I was a neophyte, a stranger to their many charms: Casey’s overbearing presence that infuriated me even more than the sound of his voice, so smooth that I couldn’t help but be entranced by it despite every part of me screaming that it was all a lie. Matthew’s scruffy long hair and wire frame glasses that reminded me of a book character I’d fallen in love with more times than I could even count, his shit-eating grin that made you feel like you were in on some private joke of his. Fraser’s backwards ball cap (because that’s always been a weak spot of mine) and a sadness so whole within him that I could feel it from the other side of the room, a sadness so whole that I could hear it through his contagious laugh.

Their apartment was on the top floor of the block - an alien space that felt more like being stuck in a hidden pocket of time - and one side of the kitchen was all windows that offered us a panoramic view of the London skyline. The alcohol and whatever we had smoked on the way over had gone straight to my head and staring at the view felt more like staring into a giant snow globe I’d found in one of those shitty gift shops in Leicester Square. My head was spinning in a good way and everything had this undeniable realness to it, like someone had taken a pen and given everything a bold outline. Even the floor had a life of its own. I had to sit down. I perched next to Matthew. We gazed out of the window, pointed out Tower Bridge and the London Eye and he gave me a gummy worm that wasn’t just a gummy worm. It tasted like TV static and made the glands in the side of my neck tingle and just by looking at him I knew that our souls were one in the same. 

We had one of those conversations that you can only have while intoxicated, the kind where you discuss parallel universes, protagonist theory and mental illness. Fraser told me that he did cocaine because he was addicted to it. Matthew replied matter-of-factly that he did cocaine to feel like a rockstar, and that pretty much sums up humans, don’t you think? We do things to feel like something else or just anything at all. 

That’s why I was there. Because it felt like something. 

fighting my imposter syndrome one day at a time

Let Her Explain

It feels like ice
And a claw
And chalk

And it feels like

Wearing a life vest 
But you don’t pull the string
Not yet
Because you’re still deciding
Between sharks
And fatal impact

It tastes like bile
It tastes like steel
It tastes like your father’s words

That nothing bad can ever happen to you

Not while he’s alive

And now you have to taste blood
Because he wasn’t there
And neither was anyone else

It smells like wet cement
It smells like sweat
It smells like
You can never again
wear that scent

It ruined sunsets
It ruined your favorite street
It ruined your kitchen
Your sister’s favorite song

But you’ll be damned

If you let it ruin the one place
You thought you’d always 
Belong

But didn’t it?

You throw away the sheets
Your mother bought you for Christmas
And think about the way your Dad
Used to tickle your neck

And you would laugh until you screamed

And now you just scream

It feels like a ghost story
Like you’re in the woods
Just a wolf licking his wounds

Wondering

If time will bring a day
You will no longer have to explain

What it feels like