journal entry

Mimosa Pudica

2.3.25

Behind closed doors. I feel safe within confinement. Freedom of judgment means freedom of error. Freedom from correction. I think what holds me back from being my most authentic self, and living in that truth, is the fear of being told that self that is incomplete, incorrect, or to be adjusted. Perhaps this stems from perfectionism. Maybe it’s my own strive for a better, more favorable self. What I know is this: That when I’m on my own, doing the things I love, dressing the way I want, existing the way I want to exist I fall in love with my existence. It’s because I know I’m doing the things I love. It’s because I exist in a way that I love, and I love the things that I love and that is all that matters to me. Behind closed doors, all that has to matter is me and the space. Behind closed doors, I do not exist in relation to others. I do not have to censor, or tweak my expressions for the comfort of others. I do not have to do anything but be.

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