Beauty comes from tenderness.
Maybe the past is supposed to fade-and that's actually a kindness of human memory.
The best things about womanhood might possibly even be the conversations. The chatting. The gabbing. The whispering. The hands-on-hips eye-rolling. The yukking-it up.
We build our lives in moments, and even the ones we can't remember become the story of who we are.
There is no tenderness without bravery.
The human condition is imperfection. And that's how it's supposed to be.