Today, I am 27. Wow.

I am a nester. I am a small talk-avoider. I am a devotional walker, an emo-music rediscoverer, a reborn journal keeper. I am someone who hangs gauzy curtains to softly filter morning light. I am a woman who overthinks, has trouble escaping her own mind, who vows to practice the delicate art of unwinding. I am someone who is soon closing a major chapter- organized education- but remains hungry to learn. I am a woman who strives to empower herself and her fellow ballerinas simply by believing in her own sparkle. Easier said than done, yes.

I am an author, a homeowner, a soon-to-be wife. I am a friend, a partner, a colleague. I am endlessly nostalgic (did I search through every February 11th post I’ve written here since 2011 this morning? why yes, I did). I am a modern romantic, I crave renaissance, reverence for the old and bold creation. With surrendered bones I ride the ebb and flow of the process, letting inspiration die to be reborn in some strange surprising spark. I am growing, I am changing, I am learning to really love my own company.

I am beautiful, I am strong, I am talented, I am powerful, I am me. 

I am repeating affirmations, I am seeking adventures, and I am never slowing down.