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A Letter Home

My dear mermaid hearts,  I have promised you, dear hearts, a letter. And yet, at times, i feel put upon. I am forever cheered with enthusiasm to share the feelings of my heart and, in so doing, often accosted.  I am one to put my emotions in the storefront window. This article is publicising and brings about desperate individuals believing me to be a polemist seeking attention, which I am not; in truth, it is quite the opposite. I am learning to give myself grace, acceptance, and unconditional love. Ye olde Instagram requires rationing. Indeed, my darlings, I have turned a corner and accept full responsibility for my actions and insecurities when I struggled deeply on Instagram. That, my dear hearts, is what an expanded woman does; she learns and grows. A woman who becomes, over time, a porcupine in nature is most certainly from overexposure to feeling unsafe. Which of the many ladies on Instagram should think that sharing makes her vulnerable or prickly? I understand the prickly women

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