Photo by Dmitri Zelenevski

As I place my headphones on the roots of my curls, the world is suddenly quiet. I can feel the steady pace of my heart as I breathe, each beat echoing softly within me. The wind presses gently against my lips, swaying my hair from my face, and for the first time, I feel free of overwhelming expectations.   

As I step out of my flaws, there’s a certain beautiful bliss that I never thought I would ever see. My thoughts are trapped inside my brain, and the grayness that has captivated my sight begins to see color. Steadily, I feel a sensation of warmth coursing throughout my body. Like a river flowing through a Valley gently, as if it had known the path back to life itself.  

The tips of my nails are cracked, the split ends of my coiled hair cut off the length of my memories, and the very essence of my being feels stuck in place. Imperfections made my flaws blossom into a blueberry. A berry that seems delectable to eat but tastes nasty if the wrong one is chosen.   

When I look at my reflection in the mirror, I see a stranger. A stranger shaped by lingering sorrows, quiet insecurities, and the fragile habit of clinging to affections that never truly needed me. But whenever I’m alone, I feel an uncertain calmness uninvited. A type of bliss that settles in gently, delivering a quiet but unfamiliar peace.