#thtgrlinbloom
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my peace cost me my people
peace didn’t arrive gently. it came like a storm that refused to end—one that tore through everything i thought was solid. it ripped through my routines, my circles, the noise i used to mistake for love. for a long time, i begged for quiet. i thought i wanted calm seas. but no one told me…
#becomingwhole, #boundariesarebeautiful, #growthandgrace, #HealingJourney, #heartsunraveled, #inbloom, #innerpeace, #lettinggo, #peaceoverchaos, #PoeticTruths, #RawAndReal, #selfgrowth, #softrebellion, #soulhealing, #thtgrl, #thtgrlinbloom, #WhisperedWords, #WildflowerEnergy, #WildflowerWisdom, #writingfromtheheart
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loving myself enough to know what i deserve
there was a time when i thought love was something to earn—something i had to chase, prove, or bargain for. i believed that if i worked hard enough to be agreeable, if i bent my edges just right, someone would finally stay. it took years, and more heartbreaks than i care to count, to understand…
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roots of devotion ♡
today, my boyfriend tilled my garden so i could press pumpkin, onions, and squash seeds into the soil before frost finds its way across the rock garden. the rhythm of the tiller against the earth was steady, almost like a heartbeat, reminding me that love is not always thunderous or loud—it is often quiet, hidden…
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love and communication: the art of listening, speaking, and being heard
love without communication is like a garden left untended—it may survive for a while, but it will not bloom. words, gestures, and silences all become seeds, and what we plant in each other will determine how we grow together. at its core, communication is more than speaking—it is the courage to let ourselves be known.…
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where the river keeps me
there is a way the river breathes that feels like my own lungs learning how to exhale, like it has been waiting all this time for me to sit at its edge and simply listen. i do not just love the river, i am woven into it, tangled in its reeds and caught in its…
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the beautiful mess of love
love is not a clean thing. it is not polite or predictable or poised—it is not soft petals in a vase on a sunlit table with matching chairs and tidy smiles. no, love is much wilder than that. love is undone hair and trembling hands and loud hearts that beat out of sync until, somehow,…
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the soft hours
“life isn’t always loud—most of it whispers. and if you slow down enough, you’ll hear how beautiful it’s always been.” i wrote a post not too long ago about my mother—how i didn’t understand her reheated coffee until i became her in a way. how the cup would sit forgotten on the counter while the…
Whispered Words | thtgrlinbloom, 🌻 