Strangled by the cobwebs of emotions I was struggling to breathe. I got up in a haste to quench the thirst of validation depriving me of self-love. Slowly, undressing myself I could see the bruises that I bore as a prized possession. Standing tall in the warm shower of early winters I saw my body shining as if basking in the reflected glory of my failures. The woman that I have grown to be harbors the heart of a child. She is a spiritual woman and a healer. She has known no other way than to love like a river, merging into the ocean of mindfulness. She screamed and now she roars.

What it takes to build a strong woman is a daunting past which questions her capability. The marsh that she has been drowning into vanishes with a Midas touch; that my love, is therapy. It mirrors out the unseen wounds, showering them with care. Helping us accept irrationality as a human tendency and fostering forgiveness. It gave her wings to fly endlessly. The path was dark but it surely met the horizon.