#happiness

I still remember all the nights I spent praying, dreaming, and crying because I wanted to not feel like a stranger in my own body. I lived like that for 30 years…my heart and mind constantly at war with the reflection I saw every day in the mirror. Broken, depressed, and tired, I never imagined I’d ever live a happy life.

Until…

I finally made the decision to be true to myself.

Almost 10 years ago now, I transitioned and it is still surreal to look in a mirror or see a picture because I never truly believed I’d be this happy or feel like I’m at home in my own body.

forbiddenfruitxx:

Imagine, just imagine someone that is so in love with you is scared to lose you. Scared to lose what you have just as much as you. That desire, the fondness, the love that brings you back together. The type of love where you say, “let’s fix it together”, “I’ve got you like you got you” or “take my hand, let’s do this together”. The love where the eyes meet and you can’t stop gazing at one another even from across the room. To be so in love that you do not know anything else. The world disappears, becoming silent as your heartbeat syncs in with theirs. Just imagine, imagine a positive love filled with happiness, laughter and joy. I simply can not wait, just imagine

nosebleedclub:

What have you realized recently?

At sixteen I decided, I will be happy when I am in college, when I am in my own space, when I find a community that does not judge and a family that I chose myself. At nineteen, in college, loved and accepted, I decided, I will be happy when I find a job that utilizes my skills and passions both, rather than one alone, a job that I choose free of external pressures. At twenty-one, working in an industry that valued my intelligence and creativity and adaptability and efficiency, I decided, I will be happy when I find my own apartment, when I can display my own books and listen to music without headphones, suffering no one else’s messes but my own.

In this decade, wantinghas become habit. Strivinghas become habit. Ambition, hunger, knowing I’m better than this - all, habit.

At twenty-four, sitting at my desk with fandom prints adorning the walls and crafting supplies strewn across the coffee table and a vase of flowers wilting slowly, it is tempting to fall prey to habit. To decide, happiness will come with professional recognition; with marriage; with higher education; with international travel.

But happiness, too, is a habit, practiced each time I stop and light a candle, or play video games with my friends, or read a book, or vacuum so I can enjoy walking on crumb-free hardwood. With time, this, too, will become a well-worn path in the garden of my contentment, provided I take care to walk it on occasion.