I’m not sure when I stopped minding to get caught in the rain.
The stress over my hair getting messed up and the bottoms of my pants getting soggy transitioned to pointing my face to the sky and feeling the drops on my skin.
Maybe peace with the rain came around the time I came to peace with my natural hair texture.
No longer fearful of appearing disheveled.
I can now look in the mirror and celebrate my wild red tendrils.
When they are whipped into shape and forced to hide their wave it’s ‘pretty.’
But, I have to think that much like my heart they are begging to be set free.
To dance in the wind and absorb the heaven in each rain drop.
That’s been my approach to life lately.
Allowing the truth of myself to shine through and turning each obstacle into something that I don’t have to run from.
Rather, I can let it sink into my skin as something to embrace.
Knowing that it may make me feel a little less put together, but, in the end it will set me free.
with love and getting caught in the rain,