She’s bold and beautiful, really.
Beautiful in a million ways, and most of them hidden beneath the surface, peeking out just so. Shining in her smile, breaking the silence in her mischievous giggle. There’s a glimmer in her eye, and a depth too. Wisdom beyond her years seems to hide behind her baby blues.
Because her years might be few, but she’s seen a thing or two.
She’s known pain and heartbreak. She’s seen nights of mascara tears staining pillowcases and been the post-break-up-ice-cream-provider more times than she cares to count. She’s been up and down, high and low, everything in between.
She doesn’t know where she’s going, but she walks with a spring in her step anyway.
She’s stepping out, walking into something new. She’s believing that she’s strong, that she’s brave, that she can – and so she is.
She’s got her years of experience – however few they are – tucked in her back pocket, and her hands are open to the years ahead. She’s blank pages and questioning eyes and curious heart. She’s wild love and headstrong impulses. She’s hesitant and shy and eager and afraid and finding out who she is.
She’s bold and beautiful.
And she’s starting to believe it.
It’s 10 pm Thursday night – so it’s Friday. Linking up with Lisa-Jo to write for five minutes, on one word, no editing. And, of course, tweeting and laughing and living together. Like we do.