I think our hearts are like tiny little libraries, carrying around stories we were never meant to carry around.
Stories that we need to take off the shelf and let go… for good. There are words that have been scribbled onto those pages that tell us we aren’t good enough, pretty enough, strong enough, likable enough, or anything worth loving. And somehow, they begin to etch themselves into our bones and echo through our steps.
But those words, those pages, and those stories, don’t define us. Although sometimes we let them. Perhaps instead we should let the words that have hurt us the most REFINE us, instead of DEFINE us.
Because the truth is, I am more than a bad story, a hard story, and the lies they tell. And so are you.
So if the story of your heart isn’t proclaiming: YOU ARE LOVED, CHERISHED, ADORED, & A DAUGHTER WORTHY OF LOVE, well, then, you oughtta burn that book.
Because there’s more to your story.