Dear Self,
Today you have permission to get it wrong.
You have permission to miss out.
You have permission to take a nap, or stay up too late.
You have permission to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.
You have permission to be awkward.
You have permission to live like no one is watching — what they think isn’t our business anyway.
Self, today you can rest in the knowledge that — in the midst of voices clamoring for perfection and glamour — your brokenness is what allows you to be free to fly.
