Some say we women should be more brutal, ruthless, and bad-*** to thrive. Let's redefine what it means to be strong.

Instead of a constant supply of external approval, affection, and affirmation. Let's return to the old tradition and cultivate our feminine divine traits, establishing a sustainable source of inner light and self-love.

The most important love is the one we give ourselves. Self-love is NOT a luxury; it's the foundation for a glow-up.

Practicing intentional gratitude is how I met the happiness family.
Manifested in many forms, each has a unique charm and beauty.
On days I am mindful and present, I encounter them frequently.

It is a blessing to share morning tea with a spouse who genuinely cares.
A call from my son, excited about art, writing, or life, I love hearing the insights he shares.
Drinking water from the kitchen tap, with no thought of germs, is a stark reminder of privilege.
This old picture of me with bouncy hair takes me back to the time when I was young and full of courage.
I feel elated when happiness comes knocking on my neighbor's door.
It's delightful to celebrate and spread joy, regardless of who it's meant for.
Each moment offers a new perspective that counters the pain I bear.
Instead of continually seeking happiness, I aspire to become a happiness-watcher.

We spend a lifetime tracing our footprints on this shore
Only to have them erased by time, no matter what beauty or allure.
The waves of time move swiftly, sweeping each moment into the ocean.
And we are all destined for the same fate, with very few exceptions.
Time must clear the canvas of life for those following behind,
Our life is a one-time gift; there is no option to PAUSE or REWIND.

Every so often, the universe brings us together, revealing the strength of our bond.

But reality pulls us apart, leaving us with bittersweet memories and shared struggles.

As time passes, the walls between us seem to grow taller.

Caught between what society expects and heart's desire, a struggle between our feelings and thoughts.

I see your fear of being judged; I also have commitments I want to keep. To live peacefully, we must stick to our paths, like distant stars in the sky.

Our paths might cross before the currents of life pull one of us away. But the wiser me understands the finality of having missed the opportunity to sow the seeds of happiness.

I wish you strength to choose yourself and enjoy an authentic, happy life with someone you love.

Forgiving others to heal your wounds is just a way to start,  
You must extend the same to yourself, from the depths of your heart,
Not just for the moments you may have hurt others,
But for the times you abandoned yourself,

Staying in situations too long, holding tight instead of letting go,  
Putting in effort that went unseen, sowing seeds that couldn't grow,  
Hiding your pain behind a smile, crafting a brave disguise,  
Accepting less than you deserve, afraid of cutting old ties,  
Stop sending signals that you don't matter,  
Reclaim your worth - as a gem and a treasure,
Permit to lighten your burden and let the healing begin.  
Forgiving yourself is a journey to find true love within.

Some touches feel like a gentle, steady rain,  
Washing away sorrows and nurturing us to heal.  
Others strike like a sudden gust of wind,  
Knocking you down, leaving you lost, without glancing back.  
Then there’s the enchanting snow, soft and light at first,  
Yet it quickly hardens into spirit-crushing ice.  
I find comfort under a warm, weighted blanket—  
A familiar source of solace, always there when I need it.

From the very beginning, we communicated our intended destinations.
You chose to head east, while I set off north without hesitation.
Yet we keep crossing paths, despite our carefully planned intentions.
The programmer must have left a glitch in the Earth's rotation.

My logic keeps pointing to all that doesn't make sense,  
Yet, I listen to my heart and its weak, jumbled defense.  

I cling to frayed memories from the past,  
Replaying stories that weren't meant to last.  
I yearn for what never reflected my worth,  
Leaving me anxious and dimming my mirth.  

What I need is a big old box to bury pieces from the past.  
Say gratitude for the pain and growth that it brought.  
Then hurl it as far away as my arms can cast,  
Feeling the weight lifted, a sense of relief at last.

What happened?  
When, where, and to whom?  
What caused it?  
Why did it happen under these specific circumstances?
We constantly ask and answer questions.
Before we identify strategies to prevent it from happening again,
All is done applying rigorous science.
The curiosity of being an epidemiologist is both a gift and a curse.
The desire to understand the complete picture is the driving force that propels us forward.    
And, even in retirement, the flame of curiosity, ignited by years of work as an epidemiologist, continues to burn brightly.  
Analyzing the crumbling public health doesn't require sophisticated modeling.
When overwhelmed with the dire answers and their potential consequences
I shut out the media, gather my painting supplies, and escape into the abstract zone,  
Where it's okay for things not to make sense.
It's a place where I can create the make-believe world I wish to live in.

No amount of rain,
A flowing river,
Or even the ocean --
can quench our thirst.
If we can't shed the armor--
We live encased in-- First.

While falling in love felt magical,  
I forgot that self-worth was essential  
For reaching my maximum potential.

In seeking love, I found clarity about things that love was not  
What began as a love bombing, making me feel giddy and soft,  
Quickly turned into:  
- Breadcrumbing and ghosting  
- then gaslighting and being shut out

You withheld communication, and I longed for our playful ease,  
Being left out in the cold depleted my inner peace,  

Your on-and-off affection left me questioning my self-worth
Your gaslighting made me doubt and second-guess every truth,  

Being treated as just an option didn’t align with my soul
It conflicted with self-respect, which had been keeping me whole

Confronting this truth broke and then mended me, though it had always been clear  
Our encounter was simply toxic — it was neither love nor care.