If you know me, at all, you know that I am absolutely obsessed with flowers. Specifically daisies and sunflowers, but I'm good with any kind. You know, I love how different they are, no two are totally the same. They always have small differences. The bright and pretty colors, how many different kinds there are, they just make me smile! I have floral-printed everything! Sunglasses, bags, clothes, I even have flower crowns (real and fake) coming out the wazoo! As much as I love all kinds of flowers, there will always be one that's the most important to me: my first rose.
You see, you probably know by now that I have not had the happiest life. I have had some tough times, y'all. But like anyone who has made their journey through hell, I had my turning point. We had just moved in with my grandmother and uncle, so that was five people in a house with three beds. Not the greatest, but it was a refuge when we needed it. But it wasn't the best for me, especially since that was the time my depression and self-harm was at its peak. So, I randomly asked my mom one day while at Wal-Mart, "Hey, can I buy this paint set? It's like, 12 bucks." And to my shock, she said yes!
So, that night, I painted. I painted to distract myself and to give myself a better outlet than myself, and I painted a rose. This rose, as a matter of fact:
It's not the prettiest or greatest piece of artwork that you have ever seen, I know. But it's more or less what saved my life.
You see, I sent a picture of that drawing to an artsy friend of mine, and to my surprise, he complimented me on it. I tried to shrug it off, but he kept insisting. And eventually, it got to the point where I realized that this person cared about me; something I hadn't thought of in a very long time. And that's when it all came pouring out. Every emotion, every single thing I had kept bottled up, I let out to him. And over the course of some months, he helped pull me out of the pit I was in.
It's been a few years now, and he still helps me. You see, he planted seeds then. And over this period of time, he tended to the garden. But he wasn't the only one. There have been many people over the years plant seeds in my garden, and they've all helped me grow into what I've become.
But, like in any garden, there can be weeds. If they are not dealt with, they can grow rampant and choke out the beautiful flowers. We have to keep care of our own gardens, which can be a struggle sometimes. This makes you think:
Are you planting seeds or weeds? Are you sowing flowers, something beautiful, or something that will eat up the garden of other people's lives?
Remember, you're not just a gardener in your own life.
Much Love, Britt.
